Go Far: Caretaker
by Archeon Zephyr
Summary: On a mission to capture the renegades in the Broken Islands, the newly commissioned Federation Sailing Ship Voyager is caught in a storm, stranding them on the uncharted side of the world. Alternate Universe Story. Revised and updated!
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

"Report!" shouted Chakotay as B'Elanna came racing up to him.

"They've got two _Galor_ cruisers armed to the teeth plowing through the channel," she said, breathing hard. "They're laying waste to anything in range. The colony is toast."

Chakotay swore under his breath. "At least we got the people out in time."

"Damn karks. This is neutral territory," said B'Elanna. "Why are they attacking us?"

"We did what we could. How's the evacuation coming?"

"The _Liberty_ is leaving now, so we'll be the last ones out. We've got one more load and we'll be ready to get underway."

Chakotay nodded, taking one last look at their base. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. How had the Cardassians found them? Was there a mole somewhere among the renegades? Then again, it was no secret that the renegades openly opposed them. Thank the Heavens they'd gotten enough warning to evacuate the civilians. Maybe this incident would be enough to get the Federation's attention. And maybe those Seafleet admirals who had ignored the refugees asking for help would realize how desperate they really were. The Cardassians were supposed to be an ally of the Federation. How could all those people turn a blind eye to what those allies were doing to the Federation's own displaced people? Chakotay had often asked the spirit of his father to send wisdom to the leaders, but so far nothing had changed. Then again, maybe this incident was the way they were to gain that wisdom.

Without warning, a nearby building exploded. The force of the blast threw Chakotay off his feet. He lay there for a few moments, stunned, staring up at the cloudy sky. Nearby, others of his crew hauled themselves upright, calling out to each other. He couldn't hear anything but an eerie ringing; all the voices and sound came as if from far away. Jarvin was there, pulling him to his feet.

"What happened?" he shouted. Jarvin's response was choppy and quiet.

"-scout… eastern rise… bomb… with a catapult…need to leave now…see us."

If there were a ship on the other side of the eastern rise, the _Val Jean_ would be in plain view once they pulled around it. They were sitting ducks.

"All hands, prepare to cut and run!" he shouted. His crew staggered to their feet and dashed for the ship. Chakotay took one last look around and, seeing no one, headed for his ship. A spatter of rain broke out over them, lasting less than ten minutes. Not surprising, considering the cloud cover.

"That was a cheap shot," said Jor, bringing him back to the moment. "Throwing bombs while still out of firing range."

"What do you expect from a Cardassian?" said B'Elanna. "They're greedy, power hungry thieves. They aren't going to fight fair unless it hurts more people."

"Haul anchor!" Chakotay shouted as he ran. "Bring in what lines we can and cut the rest."

"WAIT!" screamed a voice on shore. Everyone looked up to see a blonde woman running toward them with a small child in tow. "Help me!"

"I thought you said the colony was empty," said Chakotay. B'Elanna shrugged.

"I don't know who they are," she said. "They weren't there when I checked."

"Who are you?" called Tabor. "What do you want?"

"My name is Samantha Wildman, this is Naomi-" she indicated the small girl –"and I need passage off this island."

"How did you get here?" said B'Elanna. "We spent the last two days clearing everyone out of the colony."

"The Cardassians sank our transport vessel, we were the only survivors," she waved the question away as if it were unimportant. "Please, you have to help us!"

Dalby dashed to the rail and pointed at her. "She's wearing an officer's belt – she's with Seafleet! They found us!"

He was right, but it wasn't her belt that gave her away as much as her new, well-maintained clothes. Chakotay couldn't help feeling a little resentment toward her for that. She probably didn't even notice the state of their threadbare tunics and worn out boots. He had been the only one to notice that particular fact, because all the renegades began shouting accusations and insults, none of which were about her clothing. The anger and hate in their words made Naomi shrink fearfully behind her mother.

"-as if it weren't bad enough that the karks are out to kill us, now Seafleet's here to arrest us!"

"No way in hell you're coming on our ship – get lost!"

Samantha, however, didn't flinch. Instead, she walked closer and started telling them off for swearing in front of her child.

"Enough!" shouted Chakotay. "We don't have time for this! Samantha, are you a Seafleet officer?" He shot a glance over the Eastern ridge. For a heart-stopping moment, he thought he heard a cannon fire, but it was only a thunderclap.

"Yes, but we landed here by accident. All I'm asking for is passage to a neutral port. In return, I'll serve as a crewman on your ship and I won't tell anybody who you are or where I came from."

He considered the situation, weighing the risks. Finally, he spoke. "Do you swear it?"

She raised her right hand. "May I live a hundred years and never sail again, the Father my witness."

"Good enough for me. Get aboard."

The crew protested, but Chakotay wouldn't hear it. "We're not going to leave a mother and her child here to get killed. We're better than that."

The pair ran up the gangplank and the crew immediately hauled it up after them, still grumbling at this unseen turn of events. Another bomb exploded, startling them all. Chakotay had to shout at them to snap them out of it. "All of you, back to work! Weigh anchor and hoist the mainsail!"

People dashed to follow orders, including Samantha, hauling lines and lowering the sails for a quick exit. A voice called "Anchor's aweigh!" and the tension on the deck seemed to lessen.

"Can we trust her?" Tabor asked Chakotay as they slowly pulled away from the harbor.

Chakotay looked at him. "If you made a promise in the name of your gods, would you break it?"

Tabor looked at him. "No, I wouldn't. But how long do you plan on keeping her?"

"For as long as she said – just until we find a neutral port."

Tabor nodded, adjusting a nearby line. "I wish we'd been able to get one good blow in before we had to leave."

B'Elanna overheard him and came over. "Don't worry, I took care of that."

"How?" asked Tabor.

"I left a little housewarming gift in the main bunker." She grinned mischievously.

Chakotay smiled a little. "So that secret project you were working on with all the powder we couldn't take with us…?"

"It's on a trip line. The minute one of them sets foot inside –" she made an explosive gesture – "Boom."

Tabor chuckled. "Now I'm sorry we won't get to see it."

"We'll probably hear it. There was a lot of powder left."

"You aren't worried the bombs will set it off early?"

She shook her head. "Not with the Hold spell I cast on the building. I don't think even the powder trap will knock it down now."

The ship cleared the last part of the channel as they spoke, coming out into the open waters of the ocean. Slowly, the pitching of the deck became more pronounced. Whitecaps dotted the waves and another spatter of rain broke out for a few moments. The storm was bearing down on them with unnerving speed. With any luck, it wouldn't break before they were in port. Ayala, on lookout, waved Chakotay over.

"What is it?" he asked as he came to the bow. Ayala passed him the cracked spyglass.

"There's a ship on the horizon. It's headed for the islands."

Chakotay frowned. "They've probably spotted us. We'll have to try and out run them."

"You think they're after us?" asked Ayala

"They could be. Better safe than sorry."

"Should we head for Terikof?" said Tabor.

Chakotay thought for a moment. Terikof was the one place the renegades could hold off almost any attack. But if the ship following them turned out to be an enemy, they couldn't afford to reveal its location.

"We'll head for Nivoch," he said. "It's neutral and we have a few allies there in case things turn sour. I don't want whoever that is to follow us all the way to Terikof."

"You got it."

Chakotay went to adjust the course, still frustrated over the need to retreat. The only thing they'd been able to do to protect the colony had been to evacuate it. Some freedom fighters they were; forcing people from their homes rather than chasing the Cardassians away from those homes. He sighed. Maybe once this situation settled down, they'd find a new assignment. Preferably one that wasn't a huge target. There had to be something else worth protecting, something they'd be proud to fight for.

The wind gave a powerful gust, boosting their speed. A glimmer of hope flickered through him. Maybe they had a chance to get out of here before the ship caught up with them.

"Huh," said Ayala, still staring at the chasing ship.

"What?" said Chakotay.

"That ship following us – I think it's a Seafleet vessel."

Instantly, the crew turned an accusing eye on Samantha. She seemed as startled as they.

"Do you know anything about this?" Chakotay said to her.

"Nothing! I'm on leave. No one even knows I'm out this far. They must be looking for you," she said. Thunder rumbled and suddenly it was pouring.

"Oh great, a storm!" shouted Tabor. "That's all we need!"

"Actually, I think it is!" replied B'Elanna, yanking on lines and ropes. "Trim the sails and make fast the lines- we'll ride this storm right out of here!"

The crew moved to follow her orders. It was risky, but it was their best chance to escape. The _Val Jean_ was tough enough to take considerable punishment and light enough to skim the waves. As long as the patched sails didn't rip and the worn out timbers in the yardarms held, they had a chance. They could do it.

A soft but unmistakable powder blast sounded from behind them and everyone grinned.

"Nicely done, B'Elanna," called Dalby from the tiller. B'Elanna shrugged and kept working, calling people to different places to shore up the sails.

But as the storm progressed, growing in strength and ferocity faster than any storm Chakotay had ever seen, he started getting worried. The waves they had hoped to skim were now half as tall as their main mast, sending the ship bucking and heaving through the valleys and crests. More often than not, the waves simply broke over the bulwarks or the bow, threatening to swamp the ship. Thunder and lighting rumbled and crashed almost without pause. Soon the storm would be right on top of them.

Suddenly, one of the halyards on the mainsail snapped. The vibrations rang through the whole ship and B'Elanna let loose a string of Klingon profanities. She dashed from one point to the next, trying to jury-rig something to hold the mast in place. The wind caught the wild sail and yanked them around to port and the massive waves slammed into their starboard side. Soon, the _Val Jean_ was careening from wave to wave in a drunken roll.

Chakotay felt his gut twist with fear as he suddenly realized how badly they were listing to port. He shouted for the crew to compensate, but his words were instantly swallowed by the wind. Lightning struck the waters around their ship, seeming to come closer with every hit and he realized that they might not make it out of this.

_It's not fair!_ He raged to himself. _We were supposed to go down fighting our enemies, not in a freak storm! Spirits of my father, don't let me die yet! Not yet!_

A huge wave swelled in front of them, cresting with a terrible roar.

_Not yet! Not like this! We deserve better! Not like this -_


	2. Chapter 1

**Ch.1**

Harry Kim's stride was full of energy as he made his way down the boardwalk. The salt air was invigorating as he breathed in and it whipped at his short black hair. Every step took him closer to his very first assignment aboard _Voyager._ Newly commissioned and rumored to be the fastest in the Fleet, it was going to be his home for the next three weeks. He'd spent three days in the town so far, being admired for his exotic, Eastern appearance (or so the women who approached him had said) and while it was fun being the center of attention, he was growing impatient for his ship to come in. Finally that morning, he heard someone say a Seafleet ship was on its way into port. He had his belongings packed within minutes and started for the docks. The canvas pack on his shoulder didn't weigh a thing and he felt himself speeding up again. Harry had been waiting for his chance to go to sea his whole life. Oh sure, he'd been on boats before, but only in the protected harbor – most certainly never out in the open sea. He'd learned as much as he could during his time at the academy, but training could only bring one so far. The sound of the boards ringing under his feet brought him back as he realized he was actually jogging. With effort, he got himself under control, but didn't bother to fight the grin on his youthful face. And then, he saw it.

The Seafleet flag fluttered in a merry breeze and Harry knew he had found it at last. _Voyager_ was the only Seafleet ship docked at this port, he had been told. The port, called Terok Nor by the locals, had been code named Deep Base 9 by the Federation because of its strategic position near disputed territories. It wasn't much more than a collection of five or six inns and taverns, but it was important all the same. He remembered all this from his academy history. He let himself reflect on his good fortune. Not many academy graduates were so quickly posted right out of graduation – was that really only two months ago? – and rarely as a member of the ship's senior staff. His parents might have been talking about more than just their family when they call him a golden child.

He passed a cargo vessel and there it was – _Voyager_, in all her splendor. Painted in Federation blue and silver, with gold accents for the Fleet she sailed with, everything seemed to shine. She was a newly built carrack, built for speed and long trips. Even as he stood watching, he could imagine her straining against her lines, ready to get out to sea and really fly. Finally, he could stand there no longer.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "_Voyager_, ahoy!"

"Ahoy!" called another voice above him. "What can I do for you?"

"Permission to come aboard!"

A man with silvery hair peered over the railing. "Ah, you're one of the last group to arrive. Permission granted!"

He couldn't help it. Harry sprinted up the gangplank, nearly giddy with excitement. The silver haired man shook his hand as soon as he was aboard. The man was looking at his baldric, trying to see his rank.

"I'm Commander Cavit. Good to see some youthful excitement, Ensign…"

"Kim. Harry Kim. Good to meet you, sir."

"Same to you. I'll show you to your cabin."

Once Harry had finished unpacking, he made his way topside to find five more crewmen had boarded. He recognized one of them, much to his surprise.

"Tom Paris? You've been assigned to _Voyager_, too?"

"Harry? I never thought I'd see you again." He sounded as surprised as Harry felt.

Three days earlier, the day Harry had come into town, he'd had lunch in a tavern. He had been wildly excited, which might have been what made a merchant single him out over everyone else in sight. A quick talking merchant wasn't usually a threat to anyone, but Harry might have lost all his money in one shot if it hadn't been for Tom.

Harry had sat alone at a table that day, eating lunch, when a merchant spotted him and came over.

"You sir," the merchant had said, "look like you're heading out on the biggest adventure of your life. I'll bet you're excited."

"I sure am!" Harry said, taking in the man's face. He didn't have any hair and his ears were larger than usual. Harry scolded himself. The Federation unified hundreds of countries and the tribes that lived in them. They were different, not wrong.

"And I'll bet your parents would be thrilled to have a souvenir of this momentous occasion of their son." A case of gemstones appeared on the table. Now he knew what the man was up to. The Ferengi tribe loved to sell things and make money any way they could. His parents would have appreciated such a gift, but he had better things to spend his money on.

"Let me guess," Harry said, "You just happen to have something they'd like. But I'm not interested."

"Not interested?"

"You were going to sell me something, weren't you? They warned us about the Ferengi at the Academy."

"Warned?" The man looked genuinely shocked. "Slurs… about my people?"

Harry suddenly realized the situation was about to spin out of control.

"You know, I think my folks would love a souvenir."

"I'm sure. Why not one for each of them?"

"Yeah! They'd love one."

"They're not for sale." He snapped the case shut and went to put it away, but Harry grabbed it before he could move. "Now, who's your commanding officer, son?"

Desperate, Harry blurted out, "How much for the whole case?"

"How much do you have?"

"Beautiful, aren't they?" said a third voice. Harry looked up to see a man with unruly sandy brown hair, inspecting a gem with a practiced eye. "I've seen them in every store in this town, shined up as pretty as can be. You know, you can get a dozen of these for half a crown in a store across the way. How much are you selling them for?"

The merchant snapped the case shut. "We were just about to negotiate the price."

"I think he might get a better deal across the street. Come on." The man grabbed Harry by the shoulder and pulled him out of the tavern.

"Didn't they warn you about Ferengi?" the other man asked.

Harry had learned the man's name at some point between thanking him profusely and finding another tavern: Tom Paris. Paris held himself with a rough-and-ready disposition, coupled with a no-holds-barred 'I don't care' attitude. Harry bought Paris a drink as thanks and was trying to learn all he could from this man who acted much older than he looked.

"Why did you bail me out back there?" Harry had asked.

"I hate seeing anyone get swindled. Especially an unsuspecting chump."

"I'm not a chump!"

"Not anymore. Word of advice: never say 'interested' to a Ferengi."

Harry mentioned he was getting ready for his first real ocean voyage. He had hoped to find out more about Tom, who had been especially quiet about himself. It worked.

"I'm just in town to take care of one last debt," Paris had said, "then I'm cut loose. I'll be on easy street from there on out. I don't like being tied down for any reason."

Well, sort of.

"So, will you go home after you finish?"

"I'm a drifter, Harry. Like I said, I don't need anything holding me down. Home is just a place."

Paris left after he finished his drink, bidding Harry good fortune. Harry had been sorry to see him go. Here was a man unlike anyone he'd ever met and he'd flickered in and out his life in less than an hour.

Until he found himself on the same ship with him.

"You're Tom Paris?" said Commander Cavit, bringing Harry back to the present. His eyes weren't exactly friendly as he regarded Paris. Harry felt a little uneasy.

"That's right," said Paris.

"So… You're the one the captain hired to find the renegades." It was an innocent enough statement, but now the air was almost humming with tension.

"Right again." Paris's voice was stiff, but his face was as pleasant as ever.

"Somehow, you're not what I expected." It was a remark that would have gotten under Harry's skin, but all Paris did was raise an eyebrow. "I think Captain Janeway could've done better than someone who-"

"_I'm_ sure if it were up to you, sir, I'd still be ashore." The tension between the two was now so stiff and thick that Harry could have cut with a knife. He couldn't take it.

"We should pay our respects to the captain," Harry said, trying to get Paris to understand the tension was stifling him. The drifter gave the commander a sardonic grin and walked away with him.

"What was _that_ about?" Harry asked.

"Oh, it's a long story and I'm tired of telling it," said Paris as he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Sooner or later, someone's bound to tell you."

This strange comment didn't sit entirely well with Harry. He tried to shrug it off, but he knew this wasn't the last he'd hear about it.

The captain's office was full of exotic artifacts, arranged on shelves around the room. There seemed to be something from every country in here. All of it was properly secured; on shelves with high lips to keep anything from sliding, mounted on the bulkheads or hanging from chains. Like the one artifact directly over the desk. The gold lantern burned brightly, even in the daylight. There was a deep richness to the flame that Harry had only ever seen once before.

_Dragon's Fire_, he thought. _That stuff's dead useful, especially aboard a ship. Not easy to come by either. Only a powerful mage could capture the flame of a dragon. How did the captain come across it? Is she a caster? _

He looked around the room, trying to spot a spell book, without luck. Of course not. Heavy things like books would be stowed where they wouldn't slide around. He made no effort to slow his gaze. A closet on the portside bulkhead was open a crack. He could just make out the wet-looking gleam of –

The captain shut the door as she passed it, then stopped before the two men. Women in Seafleet were by no means unusual, even as captains, but if Harry were completely honest with himself, she wasn't exactly what he had been anticipating. When Admiral Moore had given Harry his assignment, he had been excited for him. "You should consider yourself lucky, Harry," Moore had said. "Serving on a ship right out of graduation – and under Kathryn Janeway no less! Working with someone with her reputation is the experience of a lifetime."

The way Admiral Moore had spoken about her gave Harry the impression that she was some kind of brave and formidable commander, someone who had carved a reputation for herself so incredible that Harry could only dream about. Of course, this was mostly conjecture, but honestly, he had expected her to be taller. In fact, Captain Janeway was shorter than him. She was slender as well; he could have called her 'tiny' and no one would have doubted him, were it not for the way she carried herself. Every movement was strong and confident, as if she was carrying some kind of important weight on her shoulders and was proud to do so. Like her cabin, Captain Janeway appeared neat and tidy. Her uniform was clean and trim and her auburn hair sat in a braided crown on her head. She turned and nodded at him and Tom. Her brilliant blue eyes surprised him with their intensity and something about them seemed to radiate energy. Harry came to his senses and chastised himself. A woman like this had to have done some pretty incredible things to earn the reputation she had. What right did he have to judge her as small?

"Gentlemen. Welcome aboard _Voyager_." Her voice was rough, which he hadn't expected, but full of warmth, which almost surprised him more as he reflected on all those taciturn admirals he knew at the academy. He snapped to attention, suddenly intimidated by her. "Thank you, sir!" he said, relieved that the shake he felt in his gut didn't come through his voice.

"Mr. Kim-" now she was smiling at him – "at ease, before you sprain something."

She turned to look at Paris, but without the hostile tension of the commander. He gave a well-meaning grin that seemed more sarcastic than it should have been and she spoke again.

"Despite what they told you at the academy, Mr. Kim, I don't like being called 'sir.'"

"I'm sorry – ma'am?"

"Ma'am is acceptable in a crunch, but I prefer Captain. I assume you have been shown to the navigational equipment locker?"

"Yes, ma'am – Captain," he corrected and she nodded at him.

"Very good. Gentlemen, would you join me on deck? We're about to cast off."

They followed her out of her office, past the adjoining room that held the lockers for deck equipment and out into the bright sunlight. She stomped up the ladder to the helm and threw another nod to Commander Cavit.

"Prepare to cast off!" he yelled and the crew sprang into action. "Clear the mooring lines and weigh anchors!"

The deck below crawled with activity as each crewman sprang to action. A brilliant clanking rang out from the capstans mixed with the shouts of the crew.

"Moorings clear!" shouted one voice.

"Anchors aweigh!" called another.

"Prepare to hoist main sail!" Janeway commanded, voice carrying clearly over the whole ship. This time, Harry joined the fray, grabbing one of the halyards with the others. Hoisting a sail was not easy work, but not immensely difficult either. They had the rope belayed in less time than it took to tell about it and finally, finally they were moving.

Rattling canvas, hissing wind through the rigging, the steady splash of the water against the hull as it skimmed the waves; this was the song of a sailing ship. The creak of the beams and the undercurrent of deck chatter was the harmony to this song and Janeway thrived in it. Breathing deep the scent of wind and seawater, a childhood memory flickered through her mind. In her mind's eye, she saw herself, eight years old, standing next to her father on the bow of a mighty vessel that dashed over the waves. It was her first journey on the open waters of the Federation. She had felt something strange and new out there – a thrill to know she was going somewhere she had never been, to see and learn things that hadn't been known before and, yes, perhaps even encounter some danger along the way, but she had been excited about even that. That trip had been her first taste of adventure and she now realized she'd been chasing that feeling her whole life.

Janeway reflected now on the vessel she'd been given, the crew she'd hand picked. Maybe out here, she'd be able to capture the thrill of adventure again.

Her stiff waist length coat was becoming far too hot, even with the breeze, and she pulled it off, her introspective thoughts leaving with it. Federation blue and silver it was, with gold accents for Seafleet, just like her ship. The multiple layers of the shirts underneath weren't as stiff, but just as stuffy. Admirals designed these uniforms to be intimidating and recognizable, not for comfort. Three weeks was a long time to be at sea. Perhaps she could loosen the rules regarding uniforms aboard her ship. It was an idea worth mulling over.

_They certainly are a good crew_, she thought, looking out over the foredeck. No line was out of place, no loose articles on deck. Except her coat, of course. She grabbed it and took it to her cabin. There weren't any loose articles in here, either, and she took a seat behind her desk.

Paris had set them on course to the Broken Islands, where the renegades had a base, almost an hour ago. According to reports, the base had been Warded against Scrying and Farsight spells, making anything but visual surveillance impossible. Not for the first time, she wondered if she should have gone out her way to get a professional caster on board. There was no telling what kind of firepower the renegades might have. No telling how dangerous they might be. She could almost hear Mark's protests: _You shouldn't be putting yourself in that kind of danger, Kath._

And she'd always reassure him the same way: _I can take care of myself. Seafleet is a dangerous profession. You knew what you were getting into when you proposed to me. _

Not that her words would ever stop him from fretting over her. He'd always worry and she'd always reassure him and the moment they saw each other again, all the protective tension and mutual yearning would melt away behind the warm glow of love and affection. That was something she always looked forward to – to come home from a mission and know he'd missed her every second she was gone. And he was always happy to hear that she'd missed him just as much. She ran her fingers through the chain of the locket he'd given her the day before she left. She saw him, standing on the dock, waving at her with one hand, the other holding Molly, her dog, by the leash. Molly had recently doubled in size, with almost no explanation and Janeway just couldn't bear the thought of her pining away in a kennel while she was gone. It had taken a little playful cajoling, but Mark had finally agreed to watch the dog. He had offered an explanation to this strange new development and, if he was right, she'd come home to yipping litter of new puppies. One more thing to look forward to.

_Three weeks,_ she thought to herself. _Just three weeks._

She propped her feet on her desk and leaned back in her chair to relax, if only for a moment.

Harry Kim heard the boots come up behind him before he heard a voice speak, but he didn't let either distract him. Taking a sight was precise work and he didn't want to have to triple check his work again. Kim held up his hand to warn whoever it was that he was still concentrating. Whoever it was waited patiently while he entered the sight into the log. He clapped the book shut and stowed the sextant in its case, then turned to see a slender, dark-skinned young woman – Human, by the shape of her face – holding out her hand.

"I'm Crewman Jesse Foster," she said as he shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ensign Harry Kim."

"I'm trying to get to know everyone on the crew," she said. "The mission might only be three weeks long, but I think it's good to know everyone's name anyway."

A door closed somewhere and they both watched as the captain strode out toward the bowsprit.

"I don't suppose you've met the captain yet," said Kim.

"Actually, she greeted me personally when I came aboard. I'm really excited to serve under her."

"Me too."

"Especially after all I've heard."

Kim looked at her. "What do you mean?"

Foster returned his gaze, a little surprised. "Don't tell me you haven't heard the stories."

"I haven't, but I'm sure she's a fine officer."

"You're kidding!" Foster laughed in disbelief. "You've never heard of Steely Kate? Fearless Jane? The bravest and boldest warrior the Seventh Legion ever saw?"

He stared at her in utter disbelief. "Captain Janeway? You're serious?"

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you don't see or feel anything courageous about her."

Kim thought back to the aura of energy the captain seemed to project in her office and Admiral Moore's comment. He looked out at the figure with her hands on her hips at the bow.

"Well, maybe something." He remembered the Dragon's Fire in the lantern and it dawned on him that, if nothing else, she had an eventful past and knew things he did not. He nearly opened his mouth to mention the lantern, then thought better of it.

Instead, he asked, "Do you think any of the crew are casters?"

She nodded. "Sure. I'm one of them."

"Really?"

"You bet. I even have a few spells memorized. Just some simple ones, really, like Accuracy, Stoneskin and Hawk's Eye. Most of the archers know Accuracy and Hawk's Eye. In fact, most of the people I talked to know two or three spells. What about you?"

"I don't know any spells. But the crew – most of them know some? I thought most people didn't use magic anymore. At least, most people where I'm from."

"Wow, what did they teach _you_ at the academy? Human magic isn't anywhere near as powerful as Vulcan magic, but it's useful if you know what you're doing. You should learn some. Might come in handy."

"I'll think about it," he said, meaning it.


	3. Chapter 2

Nearly a week had passed since they had left port. Tom Paris stood in the mess line, waiting for his lunch. He turned to see Harry Kim in deep conversation with Commander Cavit and suppressed a stifling sense of disappointment. _So long Harry. Nice knowing you._

"What do you want?" said the surly cook, not even pretending to be civil. "Tomato soup?"

"That sounds good," said Paris hopefully. The cook dumped a runny liquid into a bowl and threw a serving of hardtack in for good measure.

"Thanks," said Paris, hoping he sounded as sarcastic as he felt. He walked over to where Kim was sitting and Cavit stood up.

"Remember what I said, Ensign," he said.

"I will, sir," said Kim. Cavit shot Paris a glance as he left, but said nothing. Paris sat in front of Kim, trying to grin at him.

"There, you see? I told you it wouldn't take long."

"Is it true?" asked Kim, trying and failing to sound like a hardened investigator.

"Was the accident my fault? Yeah. But it took me a while to admit it." He took a mouthful of soup and nearly spat it back. It turned out to be nothing more than tomatoes boiled in water. He tried to take a bite out of the hardtack, but he might as well have tried to take a bite out of the table.

"Seafleet trained cook and he can't even get tomato soup right…"

Kim wasn't distracted. "He said you falsified reports."

"That's right." He threw the hardtack into the soup, hoping to soften it.

"Why?"

_Why? Why does anyone do anything?_ Paris tried and failed to come up with the correct answer. Why had he done it? Fear probably, but the truth was, he couldn't really remember anymore.

"What does it matter? I lied."

"But you came forward later and admitted it."

Paris sighed. Kim must have never met anyone like him before. Just went to show how sheltered this kid had been his whole life. Paris ignored his soup and looked him in the eyes.

"I'll tell you the truth – all I had to do was keep my mouth shut and I was home free. But the ghosts of those three dead officers came to me in the middle of the night and taught me the true meaning of Christmas…"

He heard his own brain laughing at him for his flippancy. He ignored it, pressing on with the story.

"So I confessed. Worst mistake I ever made, which only paved the way for more stupid mistakes. I went looking for a fight and found the renegades." He let out the ironic chuckled he'd been holding back. "And on my _first_ mission, I was caught."

"Must have been tough for you," said Kim. "Being the son of an admiral and all."

Paris shrugged. "I think it was harder on my father than it was on me."

The memory of the hearing sprang to mind. Paris clearly remembered his father's expression; shaking his head in disappointment, as if he should have expected his son to fail. Paris himself had wondered at the time if he shouldn't have seen it coming.

"Listen, Cavit told you to stay away from me and you should probably listen to him," Paris said, preparing to throw out his lunch. "I'm not exactly a good luck charm."

Kim looked at him. "I don't need anyone choosing my friends for me." He smiled, as if proud of his decision. Paris gave an inward scoff. _Your funeral, kid._ He stood and left the hall, pitching his bowl on a nearby counter, trying not to give a damn about someone who finally said they didn't care about his past.

_Don't turn around,_ he told himself. _Don't give him a glimmer of hope. Better he thinks you're a jerk than drag him down with you when you finally fall for good._

"Wait!" Kim called, running out after him. "One more thing!"

"Paris!" shouted a crewman from halfway down the ladder. "The captain wants you up on deck – we're coming up on the Broken Islands and she doesn't want any last minute surprises."

"I'm on my way," he said, moving for the ladder. Kim grabbed his shoulder.

"Did the captain hire you to find the renegades?" he asked. "Is that the debt you were talking about?"

The kid was quick. "That's right. The captain herself came down to the prison and offered me the job. I help her find the renegades, my sentence is over. Simple as that."

"Why you, though?" he asked. "There must be dozens of renegades who've been arrested. Why she'd pick you specifically?"

Paris thought for a moment. She'd probably sought him out because he was one of the few renegades willing to sell out his comrades. Or maybe she just thought he'd owe her some loyalty after she revealed she'd served with his father on the _Al-Batani._ He wasn't sure Kim would understand his irreverence toward loyalty, so all he said was, "You'll have to ask her that."

He turned and headed up the ladder, with Kim following behind.

Captain Janeway joined her first mate next to the helm. The water was a dull gray and small white caps appeared at the tops of each wave. All trace of cheery sunshine had disappeared behind indifferent clouds and she could smell rain on the wind.

"Report," she said.

"According to Ensign Jenkins, we're getting close. Ensign Vorik is on watch up top, keeping an eye out," said Cavit. She looked up to see a lithe form at the top of the mainmast. Assigning a disciplined member of the Vulcan tribe to the fighting top was a good idea. He would not get seasick or tired as quickly as anyone else might.

"Good. Crewman," she said to a passing man, "get Mr. Paris up here on the double."

"Aye, Captain." He turned and headed down the ladder that led to the cabins.

"I've been watching the sky all morning. I think we're coming up on a blow," said Cavit. Even as he said it, she thought she heard thunder in the distance.

"Nothing we can't handle," she answered.

Tom Paris soon appeared next to her just as Vorik yelled "Land ho!" from above.

"Captain." He nodded to her and she returned it. "Commander."

Cavit did not reciprocate; instead he gave Paris a look that was just this side of hostile and returned his attention to the helm. Janeway made a mental note have a talk with him later. Paris either didn't notice or didn't care.

"The base is on the biggest island," Paris said. "We won't be able to pull in much closer than the outer sand bars – the water's too shallow."

"We'll have to take the shuttle boats," said Janeway. Paris gazed wistfully at the wheel, then turned his attention back to the horizon. According to him, he had quite a reputation as a helmsman. Of course, she'd met him while he was still in prison; there wasn't exactly a place for him to prove it. He had been less than enthusiastic when he learned he'd be leading _Voyager_ back to his former comrades. He became considerably less excited when she told him what he'd be doing.

"Officially, you'd be an observer aboard my ship," she had said.

He had protested. "_Observer?_ Aw, hell, I'm the best helmsman you could have."

"You'll be an observer. Once the mission's over, you're cut loose."

"Story of my life."

It had taken every ounce of her self-control not to walk away and leave him to rot in that jail cell. That attitude of his was nothing but trouble. He was trying too hard to make everyone believe he didn't care at all. He was, potentially, dangerous; willing to take stupid risks and didn't care who got hurt while he did it. But she needed him, which meant she had to make him see who was in charge. She had grabbed him by the chin and stared directly into his clear blue eyes.

"If anyone on my crew gets hurt because of you or your actions," she had said, "I'll bury you so deep you'll never see daylight again."

The fear that had showed on his face gave her the answer she was looking for. It seemed he still cared, after all.

The Broken Islands pulled steadily closer as the sky grew steadily more threatening and a spatter of rain broke out for a few minutes. This time, she definitely heard thunder over the water. It came directly astern, from the north, and she turned to see thick, black clouds approaching.

"Looks to be quite a storm," said Cavit. Janeway didn't bother replying. She motioned Lieutenant Tuvok, the weapons master, over. A dark-skinned member of the Vulcan tribe, she was proud to call Tuvok one of her closest and most dependable friends. Not many people understood the effort that went into this kind of friendship, but neither did they reap the rewards. He was one of the few people she trusted completely. She shook off her thoughts and brought herself back to the task at hand.

"Make ready two of the shuttle boats and get a detachment for both of them," she said. Tuvok nodded once and headed for the forecastle, calling out directions. The islands were now close enough to make out their individual shapes, so Janeway drew her spyglass and started looking for a suitable spot to anchor.

"Captain!" shouted Vorik. "There's a ship headed away from the islands off our port bow!"

Anyone who wasn't already busy ran to the portside to get a look. So did Janeway and Paris followed her. She tried to get a better look through the spyglass, but no luck.

"Can you identify it, Ensign?" she called to Vorik.

"You don't think they'd be dumb enough to fly a renegade flag this close to their own base, do you?" asked Paris. Janeway didn't dignify his comment with a response.

"We are not close enough to accurately identify it," said Vorik, "but I believe they intend to get out and away, as they are turning full into the wind."

"Are you planning on chasing them, Captain?" said Kim, coming up to them.

"Not just yet. Run up the K signal – see if they'll talk." Janeway shivered as the rain hit them again. The sky was growing darker. Ensign Kim was close enough to carry out her order and did so immediately. Janeway took another look through the spyglass and could now identify the reddish sails on the little ketch.

"Mr. Paris, is that ship the _Val Jean?_" she asked, passing him the spyglass.

He only needed a second to identify it, then passed it back. "I'm sure it is, unless they sold their ship to someone else."

She gave a grim smile to no one in particular. "Helm, come to port and close the distance between us." _Voyager's_ hull swung around so she was headed directly for the little ship.

"Lieutenant, take over here," said Cavit, calling over Lieutenant Stadi. "Steady as she goes. Call if you need help." The air flickered white and thunder crashed. He looked up at the black clouds overhead, just as they began to dump sheets of water on him. They needed to furl the mainsail as soon as possible. He ran down to the main deck and started shouting for the crew to get to work. Always alert, the bosun nodded and blew several blasts on his whistle, stirring the crew into motion. The ship would do fine with the mizzen sail, as now the wind was whipping them about. He grabbed the nearest line and started hauling on it. It was not easy – the wind had been building ever since the first spray and they were having trouble getting it under control. He locked eyes with the captain from across the deck, uncertain.

Commander Cavit's eyes were full of concern, the captain saw. She recognized the danger as well. It would take the strength of the entire crew to furl the sails under the might of the approaching storm. Not wasting another moment, she threw open the hatch and bolted halfway down the ladder.

"All hands on deck!" she shouted, "Everybody topside, now!"

Instantly, there came the rush and clatter of the crew. She ran back up the ladder, only to see Lieutenant Stadi fighting a terrific battle with the helm. Cavit could direct the crew – Stadi needed help keeping them on course. Running was now made difficult by the bucking of the deck; the waves were hitting _Voyager_ broadside. They needed to straighten her out and take the brunt of the waves with the bow, the way she was meant to take them. Reaching the wheel, she saw Stadi straining with all her might under the force of it. As soon as Janeway had her hands on it, she understood why. The wheel desperately wanted to spin to starboard, but that would throw them even further off course than they were now. They were still behind the renegade ship, but listing to starboard. She threw her weight against it, but nothing happened.

"Paris!" she barked. "Get over here!"

Lighting flashed, thunder exploded and a huge wave washed over the deck, sending the crew sliding to the starboard side. A wild scream drifted up to her, but she couldn't tell who had been hurt. Janeway and Stadi scrambled back to their feet and dashed for the wheel. The wind gusted with brutal force and the fighting top snapped off with a rending crunch. It crashed to the deck with a blow that shook the ship from stem to stern. Lines snapped and lashed about and people recoiled as they were whipped. Another wave struck and washed the remains over the side. Janeway felt a stab of ice. Had Vorik gone with it?

Paris arrived just as she thought it and helped to shove the wheel to port, inch by inch. She might have been more grateful of his help if she had been feeling anything but raw grief. Why hadn't she ordered Vorik down when the storm hit?

The wheel jerked in her hands, demanding her attention. The three of them shoved it to port again and held it as steady as they could. Steady was a relative term, of course, but now that most of the sails were furled, the awesome force of the wind had lessened somewhat. Cavit shouted and threw a line to Vorik, who wound it tight around a belaying pin.

Vorik was safe! She could have laughed aloud with relief, but she kept herself in check; the danger had not yet passed. This storm was as brutal as any she had ever seen. It had come on faster than any storm she'd seen before, in the space of just an hour or two. Something nudged her arm.

"Is it just me, or is there something strange about the lightning?" said Paris. So, she wasn't the only one to notice this storm's strangeness. She looked out over the water, where a white fork split the sky with fierce brilliance. For barely a heartbeat, all the raindrops and spray seemed suspended in the air as individual particles of water. The moment vanished and another wave washed over the deck. Lighting cracked again, less than a second from the one before. It was going off almost once a second, accompanied by ceaseless thunder.

"It's getting closer!" said Stadi. "Like it's trying to find us!"

Janeway tried to shake off the feeling they were both right, but to no avail. There was something unnatural about this storm. She looked out again, trying to understand. Suddenly, the wheel gave a lurch in her hands.

"We need to keep the wheel steady!" shouted Stadi over the wind.

"Use one of the pins to brace it!" said Paris. Stadi nodded, dashing to a row of belaying pins to grab one. All of them were wound with rope and she gave a cursory glance to see which one was least important. She yanked one free, setting its rope flying in the wind, then started back for the wheel. The rope fluttered erratically, then wound around Stadi's outstretched arm. Janeway shouted a warning, but the sail the rope had set loose suddenly gusted with terrible force. With a scream, Stadi was yanked over the side and fell into the water below. Paris raced for the rail, but the woman did not surface. He immediately returned to the wheel.

"She's gone, Captain," he said. Janeway nodded, throat tight. There would be time to mourn later – she ignored the tears sliding down her face.

"Captain, the lighting!" shouted Kim. She looked for herself – it was closer than ever. Now it was striking on both sides of the ship. The crew seemed to have noticed, too. The quality of their shouting had gone from urgent commands to exclamations of fear and surprise. She could see it striking in the water just twenty yards away, making the ocean boil with anger. With dawning horror, she realized that _Voyager_ herself might be drawing it in – the only attractor on the water for kilometers around.

"All hands, brace for impact!" she yelled with all her strength, not sure what good it would do. Some people grabbed the railing, but most didn't hear her. Time began to slow and everything took on a quality of unreality. She looked up to see a bolt headed straight for them and when it struck the mast –

Everything went so brightly white she was sure she was blinded. The light was so intense she could feel it burning through her. Her body was rigid with electricity. She couldn't feel the wind or spray or the wheel or the deck under her feet. But there was pain. Pain like she never imagined. Pain so intense that it wiped out her memories, as if there had never been anything in existence before this pain and there would be nothing after it. Something within her broke and the white faded to black.


	4. Chapter 3

Slowly, so slowly it felt completely unreal, Janeway opened her eyes. The world around her was bright, but not painfully so and she tried to sit up. Every last part of her was stiff and sore as she summoned the strength to stagger to her feet. Her clothes were sodden with spray and her hair was crusted with salt, but she pushed the thoughts aside to survey the damage done by the storm. They had managed to save the both mainsails and the main topsail, but the fore topsail was ripped nearly in half. Splinters were all that remained of the fighting top and a few planks in the deck were broken where it had landed. Lines, hooks and pins were strewn about the deck in hopeless disarray. Crewmen were moving about on the deck, trying to get things back into a semblance of order or helping the injured.

"I want a full damage report!" she shouted, ignoring the pain in her throat. "Ensign Kim, get a fix on our position – I want to know exactly where we are." He ran for the equipment locker while she looked around for herself. The clouds were still there, but the Broken Islands had disappeared completely. She wasn't worried – the storm had pushed them somewhat off course, but it hadn't lasted long enough to get them completely lost.

At least, she hoped it hadn't.

One of the running lines was flapping loose and she made to secure it, but the belaying pin it was supposed to attach to was missing. There wouldn't be any spares on deck, but she spotted a piece of broken rail and grabbed it. It would hold until she could find a replacement. A chill ran down her spine. This was the line Stadi had pulled loose before she-

"Captain!" shouted a voice. It was Lt. Carey, one of the deckhands.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" she called back, still pulling the line into place.

"There's nearly five inches of water in the bilge. Look!" He held out the glass pipe where she could see it.

Tension hummed through her at the sight of it. "Salt or fresh?" The last thing they needed now was a breech.

"Mostly fresh – it's probably rain and spray, but I thought you'd want to see it for yourself. I've got people working the pumps hard as they can now."

"Good. Keep it up." Something else occurred to her. "Lieutenant, where's Commander Ruorke? Isn't this his job?"

Carey stared at the deck and Janeway saw that one of his boots was missing.

"I'm sorry ma'am; Ruorke was lost overboard. We also lost at least two crewmen when the fighting top fell."

A chill that ran deeper than the dampness of her clothes settled in her bones. Four dead already? They had been out less than a week! Had that been the scream she heard? She tied off the line just as a new thought flittered through her head that brought her heart to a stop. Where was her first mate?

"Cavit! Where are you?" Her mouth was dry and her hands shaking, but she didn't notice. All that mattered was that her first mate wasn't answering. She drew another breath. "Commander! Answer me! CAVIT!"

Tom Paris heaved an injured crewman down to sickbay. Somehow, indirectly, he was responsible for all this. If he hadn't been caught, Seafleet wouldn't have needed his expertise in trying to find the renegades, which would have meant that _Voyager_ would never have left port when she did, which meant that none of this would have happened. Why was he thinking these things now? Guilt was not something a drifter and a criminal had any use for. It just got in the way. Well, then, was he really a drifter or criminal when he got right down to it? He didn't know and found he didn't care – all he cared about was the woman he was helping through the door who groaned with the pain of a wrenched ankle and broken wrist.

"Zimmerman? Get out here! We have wounded!" He helped the woman onto the table and she let out another grunt.

"Zimmerman? Didn't you hear me?" Paris looked around. The doctor should have been sitting behind his desk or rummaging through his stores for healing salves and herbs, but the desk was unoccupied and the door to the stores was closed. It seemed like Paris would have to do something on his own. He went to open the door, but as soon as he touched the handle, a figure made of light burst into being. Rays blasted in all directions, then turned back in on themselves. When the colors settled, Zimmerman was standing in the middle of the room.

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," he said.

_What a weird thing to say,_ thought Paris. "Doctor Zimmerman?"

"No. I'm a Construct, designed to take his place in the event of his death. The fact that I'm standing here now would suggest that this ship has taken a casualty."

All Paris could do was blink at him, dumbfounded. "Um… can you help her?"

"Certainly." He began to pull small jars out off the shelves and moved over to the table. "Doctor Zimmerman made sure to pass onto me all the knowledge he possessed, including the information from several Federation medical texts." He took the woman's wrist in his hands with a gentleness that suggested he didn't know how to use them yet. She hissed in pain. The door banged open and more people staggered in, bleeding in various places.

"You're not seriously injured," he said. "You can wait."

Paris and the woman looked at each other and she shrugged. They both knew how triage worked, so she slid off the table and he helped her hobble to someplace out of the way.

Kim shook his head in disbelief, then reset the sextant to check again. He knew, of course, the reading wouldn't change, but it had to be wrong. It had to be. The numbers were too impossible. Too unreal.

"Report Mr. Kim," said the captain. He tried to say it, but his mouth failed him. He tried again. She needed his answer; was counting on her navigator to give it.

"Captain." A good start, but what came next? "Our position…it's impossible!" He stopped just short of her hearing his voice shake.

"Where are we, Ensign?" She was demanding an answer he couldn't understand.

"According to my readings, we're off the charts. I might be able to get a better reading from the stars, but as far as I can tell at this point, we're in the uncharted ocean. Probably on the other side of the world – I can't even guess how it happened."

Her eyes went wide. She couldn't believe it either. He might have felt sorry for her, if he'd known her better. After all, she'd just learned they'd lost almost a dozen people in the storm, including the first mate. Then they'd lost sight of the renegade ship, which was the whole reason they'd come out in the first place. Now, she learned that they themselves were lost in uncharted oceans. The captain pressed a fist to her mouth and the lines around her blue eyes tightened. In them, he saw pain and fear. Kim found he did feel sorry for her, after all. This was not something they trained captains to deal with at the academy. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"Please," he found himself whispering, "let something go right for a change."

No answer came immediately to his plea, nor did he expect one. They were a long way from any kind of help. In fact, they were lucky to make it through the storm with their hull intact. What a way for his first mission to begin.

He let his thoughts wander while he worked to repair the ship.


	5. Chapter 4

After nearly an hour, the crew had adjusted to the shock of their displacement to this strange part of the world and had calmed somewhat. Repairs proceeded with reassuring steadiness, proving that a well-trained Seafleet crew could adapt to almost any situation. Even so, the crew was still relatively on edge and many people nearly jumped out of their skins when they heard a sharp noise over the water.

"HOY!" shouted a voice. The voice belonged to the pilot of the little ship coming up on their stern. It wasn't much bigger than a skiff and had been painted almost every color imaginable. A short wild-looking man was waving at them, now that he saw he had their attention. He shouted at them, but they couldn't understand him. _"Joun-au! Shu Neelix tu hin bei'shu zou-ang Baxial! Do-ung shai'chin sui'su gi-o?"_

Kim shivered – the man's strange language just proved they were further from the Federation than anyone had ever been.

"Can anyone understand him?" said the captain, echoing Kim's thoughts. When no answered, she beckoned Lieutenant Tuvok over to her.

"If you intend for me to Meld and learn his language, I must remind you I will need to be in physical contact," said Tuvok.

"Well, then. I'm glad we understand each other. Take whatever preparations are necessary; I'll get the rope ladder," said Janeway, glad at last to have something to focus on. She dashed below and when she had returned, the stranger's boat had pulled alongside their own. With the lieutenant's help, she lashed the ladder securely to the pins and lowered it. The stranger scampered up and hopped aboard. She could sense some of the crew stiffening, but they made no move to attack. Even if he turned out to be hostile, they outnumbered him twenty to one.

Not that someone dressed like that could be threatening. He wore a bright, multi-colored tunic, striped breeches and mismatched boots. He grinned brightly at them all, chattering in his strange tongue nonstop. Janeway tried not to stare, but he was so unlike any tribes from the Federation. Brown speckles dotted the sides of his face and his hair was limited to a narrow mane that ran off his head and two patches of whiskers on both sides of his jaw. Tuvok took his hand and suddenly they were both staring at each other with great intensity. The stranger listened to a sound only he could hear – Tuvok, speaking in his mind – and then he was nodding. Tuvok carefully placed one hand on the stranger's face and concentrated. Something changed in the air, just for a second and a light flashed first in Tuvok's eyes, then the stranger's.

"I don't feel any different, but – oh! Can you understand me?"

"Yes, we can," she said, walking up to him. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway, of the Federation sailing ship _Voyager_."

"Fantastic!" he said, gripping her hand as Tuvok moved away. "What a title! I don't have one nearly so impressive, but all the same, you can call me Neelix. I'm a Talaxian trader and I have never seen a ship like yours before."

"We're not from around here." A thought struck her. "Maybe you could tell us about these waters."

"Oh, well you don't want to stick around too long. Kazon ocean robbers control this area. I can point you in any direction you'd like, but you'd need a guide willing to brave the danger."

"Ocean robbers?" she repeated.

"I believe he may be referring to pirates," said Tuvok. "Those who attack ships to steal what they have; is that what you meant, Mr. Neelix?"

"Yes. Yes, Kazon pie-rats, very dangerous. If you're smart, you'll leave now."

The captain thought for a moment. They needed whatever help they could find at this point. Suddenly, she had an idea. Smiling, she turned to face Neelix.

"You've come pretty far out on your own," Janeway said sweetly. "Braving these dangerous waters all by your lonesome."

"Oh, well…" he blushed in his own way and Janeway could see he was flattered. She barreled on, wondering if this could work.

"Do you know this area well, Mr. Neelix?"

He straightened his shoulders at that and Janeway knew it was working. "I am famous for knowing it well, Captain."

"Would you be willing to guide us, just for a little while?" His smile faded a little. It seemed knowing it well and willing to travel it as if he did were two different things.

"Of course," she continued, voice sweet as honey, "We'd be willing to compensate you for your trouble."

"Ah, now you're speaking a language I understand! In fact, that's why I hailed you in the first place – you seem to be full to bursting with goods for trade." He ran his fingers over her coat. "Goods like these fine Federation uniforms – quality fabric like this would turn a healthy profit in any port!" He quickly released her coat, perhaps realizing he'd overstepped his bounds. "The closest island is back the way I came – south by south-east. But I think we'd better take the long way. Pie-rats were closing in a ship just as I was passing. Probably getting ready for a raid."

"What did the ship look like?" said Tuvok, impassive as always, and suddenly Janeway knew what he was getting at.

"It was bigger than mine, but smaller than yours. The sails were kind of like rounded triangles and there was a red flag with a strange mark, flying from the mast."

"The renegade ship," Janeway whispered. Then she shouted, "Get that skiff aboard! Helm, bring us around, heading south by south east. Once the boat is secure, hoist the main sail! The rest of you, suit up. I have a feeling we'll be fighting before this day is over."

Janeway heard the cannon fire before she could clearly see the boats. Another minute and they'd be in range. She ran her fingers along the hem of her hauberk, trying to keep calm. Her chain mail and brigandine were heavier than her uniform, but she felt more comfortable in it. The weight of her sword was reassuring on her belt. The rest of the crew stood ready in armor, tense, waiting. Even if the primary goal of Seafleet was exploration, not battle or conquest, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the amount of protection standard battle gear allowed them. But now the danger was much closer. Arrows flying about, cannon fire – not to mention how much more trouble someone would be if they fell overboard weighed down by their armor. It didn't quite seem fair that the officers should get chain mail to go with their brigandines while crewmen only got brigandines, but those were their orders. Besides, there was plenty of armor to go around and that _was_ something to be grateful for. All of them had been issued a standard sword and bow. Both were designed as simple as could be, but of respectable strength.

"I see them!" someone shouted and she brought her thoughts back into focus.

"Helm, come to starboard a little," she said. The helmsman obeyed immediately. Now everyone could clearly see the smaller renegade ship engaged in a pitched battle with a larger, though somewhat more crude, pirate ship. The pirates, if they could be classified as such, were firing away at the renegades with longbows and primitive cannons. Primitive, but by no means ineffective. The reddish mainsail was in tatters, the mizzenmast was broken and several holes had appeared in the hull.

"You know," Paris said, coming up beside her, "If we wait a little while, those pirates ought to take care of the renegades for us."

Janeway felt a surge of anger at his words, but kept her voice calm. "We were instructed to arrest them, Mr. Paris, not execute them." Now she turned to face the main deck. "Run out the guns and prepare to fire! Archers, to your positions!"

There came shouting and scrambling at her words, accompanied by a rattling sound that meant the gun ports were swinging open.

"Is this entirely wise?" asked Tuvok. "We are attacking without provocation."

"Those renegades are our responsibility and in my judgment, part of that responsibility means keeping them safe." Janeway planted her hands on her hips. "Mr. Neelix, would you join me please?"

Neelix came up without hesitation, looking very nervous. He did not want to be a part of this fight; that she could see, but he was their best chance at communication.

"I need you to tell the pirates – if you don't mind, of course – that the red ship is under our protection and we mean them no harm. But they should know we are well prepared to defend ourselves and we will, if it comes to that."

"Are – are you sure, Captain?" He licked his lips and his eyes darted about. "Someone like you would be better off remaining on the Kazon's good side."

He wasn't fooling anyone. He was only concerned with his own safety. She fixed him with a steady gaze. "Your ship isn't leaving until I say so. And I say it's not leaving until we're done here, so I believe it's in your best interest to help."

"Fair enough. You make a compelling argument." They both walked to the bow and he smoothed the borrowed brigandine he wore with somewhat shaking hands. Neelix cupped his hands around his mouth and began shouting in his original language. He made several extravagant gestures toward the renegades, toward _Voyager_, toward the captain herself before stopping. One of the pirates responded, pointing and waving, then tapped one of his crewmates on his shoulder. The other crewmate trained a bow on her, then all of them did.

Neelix shrugged. "Well, as you can see, they don't care who you are or what you can do. They claim that boat for themselves and are willing to ignore you if you leave immediately."

Janeway had expected no less, but all the same she thought it fair to warn them.

"Tuvok, get below to direct the cannons – wait for my order. Archers, ready to fire!"

The sound of twenty bows being drawn met her ears and she kept her eyes on the pirates. She watched the head of the first one swing back and forth, realizing she was ready to take them on. He let out a shout and the pirates fired.

"Fire!" she yelled, staying low. Fleet trained archers were very good and they would not shoot fatally unless they had to. Sure enough, two or three pirates were struck in various places, but none seriously. As for the pirate arrows, many were poorly made and flew wide.

"Captain," came Tuvok's disembodied voice. He was using the relay box and she moved over to it, calling again for the crew to fire.

"I do not believe we can use the cannons without causing further damage to the renegade ship. They are too close."

That would be a problem – the pirates would have no problem shooting it themselves.

"Captain!" yelled Ensign Kim. "There's another pirate ship, closing fast from port!"

Wonderful. As if she didn't have enough to worry about now. Worse, it was much closer than it should have been. If they hadn't been so absorbed in this battle…

"Mr. Tuvok," she spoke into the relay box, "there's a second ship on our port side. Prepare to fire on that one, if it comes to that."

"Aye, Captain."

This new ship was moving at a good clip. Janeway racked her brains, trying to come up with some kind of strategy, when all of a sudden there was a change in the air. There was a heaviness to it, somehow. A sound so low she only felt it in her chest and limbs rumbled up from the bottom of the ocean. It brought a wave with it that sent _Voyager_ reeling, but they were in no danger of capsizing.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded of no one in particular. The strange rumble came again and some sixth sense warned her that something very bad was about to happen. She heard shouts of surprise and alarm coming first from the pirate ship, then her own. They were pointing at something directly ahead.

A colossal figure of a man was rising from the water. It must have been two hundred feet tall. She waited for the water to run off him, but it stayed put. With a deep chill, she realized this figure was actually _made_ of water. She knew only one force capable of this.

"Sorcerer… Heaven protect us!"

WHAT FOOLISHNESS IS THIS? YOU PRESUME TO ATTACK EACH OTHER EVEN NOW! ENOUGH FIGHTING!

It was speaking, in voice that sounded like waves breaking on the rocks. The face frowned at them and one hand slowly reached out. It was big enough to grasp all four ships at once.

TOO MUCH IS AT STAKE! I DID NOT GO TO THIS TROUBLE SO THAT YOU COULD DESTROY YOURSELVES! WE MUST PROCEED IMMEDIATELY!

The equally colossal hand was now hovering over their boats and sheets of salt water fell from it. It fell with enormous crushing weight and Janeway felt the breath being squeezed out of her lungs. The deck shivered under her feet and she knew the ship could not take the strain. She wanted to fight, to run, to do something, anything!

This, after all, was not how she pictured her death.

Janeway woke to – to something other than her ship. She seemed to be floating through white mist. There was nothing to see and nothing to focus on. Before she could become upset with being acted on so often without a chance to react on her own, the air changed. The mist, which had previously been innocuous, seemed to swirl around inside her lungs, searching for something. The swirl became a whirlpool, drilling down to the very core of her being. It spun faster and harder, becoming uncomfortable, then agonizing. Something within her broke, setting the whirlpool free. All the heat was pouring out of her, racing out of her chest through the hole.

Behind her, someone let out a raspy scream. She felt her heart wrench as she realized it was Harry Kim.

_They can't do this to us! Not to my crew! _

She didn't even have the breath to scream in frustration before the darkness took her.


	6. Chapter 5

Harry Kim came around slowly. The white fog and eerie weightlessness were gone, along with the pain. Whatever he was lying on wasn't hard, but wasn't exactly comfortable either. But something was wrong. Something was missing.

He wasn't on _Voyager_ anymore! The rocking motion of the boat; that was what had been missing. He jerked upright and saw he was in a dark, stone room. It was empty, except for the other bed and the oil lamp on the table. It was also surprisingly cold. He shivered in the thin garment he found himself wearing. Quickly, he wrapped the light blanket around his shoulders and began to think.

_It's freezing in here!_ Kim thought. _Isn't it? Why can't I see my breath?_

The cold felt… different, somehow. It seemed to pass through him. He tugged the blanket closer and saw his hands. Every particle in his body stopped moving as he saw that they were fading away. He could almost make out the stone flags in floor through his fingernails. His breath came in gasps as icy panic flooded his veins.

_What'shappeningtomewhat'sgoingonwhat'swrongwithmewhat'swrongwithme-_

From one of the shadowy corners untouched by the pitiful lantern light came a deep, throaty growl. It hadn't occurred to Kim until that moment that he might sharing the cell with someone.

Or something.

Kim gathered what few shreds remained of his courage and spoke to the noise.

"Who-who's there? I-identify yourself!"

A very tense silence followed and he got the impression something was looking at him. Then, without a sound, the darkness sprang at him. It knocked the wind out of his lungs and pinned him to the bed. Frigid hands clamped on his throat and two deep, dark eyes bored into his.

"Who are you!" demanded a voice that cut like a sword.

"I'm Harry – Ensign Harry Kim of the Federation Sailing Ship _Voyager._"

"Federation?" the voice still carried a growl, but was higher than he thought it should have been. "That was _you_ closing in on the Broken Islands! How did Seafleet find our base?" It shifted as it spoke and the eyes caught the lamplight, shining with the bright colors Kim associated with an animal. He suddenly realized the significance of the comment.

"You're one of the renegades!" he said.

The hands shook his throat, not falling for his sidetrack. "Where are we, Seafleet!"

Kim's mind spun. How was he going to explain this?

"I don't know exactly, but I think that strange storm blew us to the other side of the world. As for this cell, your guess is as good as mine. Um, can you let me go?"

The hands released his throat and his cellmate moved away. Now Kim could clearly see that she was female. About his age – maybe a little older - and with a face and build that suggested she wasn't entirely of the Human tribe. He watched as she flipped her short dark hair out of her face. She might have even been attractive if it weren't for her angry expression. His heart sank as he saw she was fading at the edges, too.

"Thanks. Guess we're in the same boat." He gave what he supposed was a reassuring smile. She sneered at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"We're both fading. See?" He held his hand up to the light so she could see it. She held up her own hands for comparison and paled at the sight. Her breathing quickened and Kim moved to reassure her, but before he could get off the bed, she let out an ear-splitting roar. It wasn't a sound a Human could make, which confirmed his suspicion. She grabbed the door handle and tried to wrench it open. When nothing moved, she flipped her bed over and snapped off one of the legs. Harry panicked for a moment when he thought she might bash his head in and be done with it, but instead she started beating the door with it.

"Hey! Come on! Calm down! What's that going to accomplish?"

She took a few more swings, then dropped the club, pressing a hand to her head. Anger, then embarrassment, then indifference moved over her face. "Sorry. Sometimes I can't – …if anyone ever tells you it would be fun to be a Klingon, tell him he's an idiot."

"Klingon? Are you a Klingon?"

"Yeah, but only half. Sometimes, it's hard to control."

Well, that explained why the ridges on her head weren't as thick as had seen on others. He nodded. "What's your name?"

"What?" She stared at him, as if trying to figure out if he was making fun of her.

"You have a name, renegade?" he asked.

"B'Elanna Torres. Why do you care?"

"I want to help you. If we work together, we can get out of here. Then we can find our people and see if they know how to cure us."

She snorted at him. "What makes you think any of them are still alive?"

He didn't have an answer for that.

They sat in silence for some time; Kim on his bed, Torres on the mess of fabric on the floor. He tried not to stare, but Torres fascinated him. He hadn't ever met any Klingons up close before and he wondered how similar she was to a full-blood member of her tribe. Maybe they were all full of that restless energy – she never stopped moving, even while sitting still. Always looking, always examining; she seemed to be nothing but coiled energy, waiting to spring. He tried not to react every time her eyes glinted in the lamplight. It was like seeing some dangerous animal made even more dangerous because of its intelligence.

The door rattled, instantly making them alert. It swung open and before Kim could shout a warning, Torres had grabbed her impromptu club and was dashing for the doorway. Two men walked in and she swung it at them. They dodged the blow, then grabbed her and wrestled the club out of her hands. Enraged, she threw punches and kicks in every direction, growling and roaring. She knocked one of them to the floor with little more than a backhand blow, scaring Kim a little bit with her strength. It took two more men to hold her still while a woman ran up and pressed a cloth to her face. Torres struggled, but seemed to be losing strength.

"Stop that!" shouted Kim, suddenly realizing what was happening.

_-It's only a sedative, -_ said a voice he wasn't sure he heard out loud. _–It won't hurt her. -_

Kim leapt up and snatched the cloth away from Torres' face, then pushed his way between the people gathered around her, trying to get to her. She still put up a terrific fight, despite being half-drugged, but somehow he got her away from the others. He tried not to hurt her, but soon realized she was all sinewy muscle and sharp bones under the thin tunic. It didn't seem like there was much he could do to hurt her. She tried to shrug him off and had he not be ready for it, she might have thrown him right off his feet.

"Don't!" he whispered desperately. She snorted and jerked free from his grip, but thankfully stayed put.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Why are we being held here? Why are we disappearing?"

_-I will answer what questions I can, -_ came the strange voice again. Kim noticed that one of the men was looking directly at him, as if he were actually speaking. _–But first, how are you feeling? -_

"How are you doing that?" asked Kim.

The man nodded and then finally spoke aloud. _"Ah, shen'tow tun foy'su. Do-ung shen'ang-ji?"_

Kim looked at Torres, who shrugged.

_-You don't seem to understand our spoken language.-_ He stroked his chin as he thought. _-If you will permit me, I know a way to teach it to you.-_

They shared a look, then nodded at him. He touched a finger to their heads and something twinged in their minds, making them flinch.

"[Can you understand me now?]" he asked. He spoke the language aloud, but they could hear it in their own words in their minds.

"Yes," said Kim with no little relief.

"[Excellent! Allow me to apologize for your mistreatment.]" He spoke to Torres, who merely snorted and folded her arms. "[When we heard you beating on the door, we didn't want to take any chances.]"

If he had been hoping to placate them, it didn't work. Kim maintained his indifference and Torres continued to scowl.

"Where are we?" she said. "Why are we being held here?"

"[This is the clinic. We're trying to help you. And you aren't being held – in fact, we consider you honored guests. As long as you don't cause any trouble, you're free to leave your quarters. Maybe you'd like to join me in the courtyard for a meal. Are either of you hungry?]"

At the mention of food, Kim felt his stomach rumble. It seemed like centuries since that thin tomato soup back aboard _Voyager. _He threw a glace at Torres to see her reaction. She looked wistful at the suggestion and he reflected on the moment he grabbed her. Exactly why were her bones so pronounced?

He shook off his thoughts. "We'd appreciate a meal, thank you."

"Do you have clothes that are warmer than these?" asked Torres, now back to her usual gruffness.

"[Oh, of course,]" said the man, ducking out of the room. He darted back in, carrying a bundle of fabric, which turned out to be their original clothes. "[I had these washed and repaired while you were sleeping. My name is Diga, by the way. Just call if you need anything.]"

He and the others left to give them some privacy. Kim and Torres grabbed their respective outfits, then turned away from each other as they started changing.

"I think he's lying," said Torres, voice partly muffled.

"About what?" said Kim, pulling off his tunic. "He hasn't told us anything."

"About our being free to leave. If we're so free, why was the door locked in the first place? And why won't he answer our questions?"

Kim pulled on his trousers, seeing the logic of it and wishing she wasn't so right. He wanted to be able to trust someone in this strange place, but Torres didn't seem willing. He shrugged on his jacket, noting the many repaired rips in it, as well as the missing buttons. Were these all from the storm or something else?

He turned around before Torres had finished pulling her tunic on and looked away, blushing slightly. Not a doctor by any stretch of the imagination, he couldn't help but wonder if she was underweight or just naturally that size.

"Not bad," she said, something like approval in her voice as she inspected the various patches and stitches in her tunic. "At least they saved me a patch job."

Kim tried to comment on his own uniform, but couldn't after seeing hers. Her clothes were so old and threadbare; they wouldn't have looked out of place on a beggar. She turned around and caught him staring at her.

"What are you looking at?" she said, scowling at him.

"Your – " His sudden guilt snatched the words out of his mouth.

"My clothes? What's the matter; never seen a freedom fighter's outfit before?"

"Well…no." He shifted under her stare. "Why don't you just get a new tunic? That one's about to fall apart."

She folded her arms. "Just pick one up, like a bag of potatoes, the next time I'm at the market? I don't know how expensive clothes are where you're from, but they're a little hard to come by in the Demilitarized Zone. Us renegades aren't supported by a multi-national consortium of co-operative governments like you are. What little money we have goes toward ship repairs and weapons. We can't always afford trivial things, like clothes or boots."

"Or sometimes even food, right? Is that why you're so thin?"

She stared at him, with an expression somewhere between bewildered and surprised. Anger quickly replaced it and she shoved him aside on her way to the door.

"Ow!"

"Don't wait up, Seafleet."

Kim stood still a moment, trying to understand, then strode after her.

Once again, Captain Janeway picked herself up off the deck of the ship. Instead of dwelling on it, she took stock. The pirate ships had disappeared, but the renegade ship was still close by. As far as she could see, her ship was undamaged, but she could only see the deck.

"I want a full damage report!" she shouted. "Somebody find out how long we were gone!"

"Captain!" Tuvok hurried over to her. "I believe the renegade ship has taken irreparable damage. They seem to be sinking."

She ran over to the rail to see the renegades scrambling about on their deck, dumping cargo and lowering the lifeboats. They might be outlaws, but they had rights.

"Hoy! Renegade captain!" she called. "Do you need help?"

A gruff looking man with a tattoo over his left eye answered. "What kind of help would a Seafleet ship give us? Handcuffs and a bunk in your brig? I don't think so."

"Well, you can either come aboard and accept our help, or go down with your ship secure in the knowledge you didn't compromise your principles."

The man exchanged a glance with one of his crew. "I suppose the brig is a better choice than the bottom of the ocean. Will we be fairly treated?"

"You have my word that none of my crew will lay a hand on yours."

"Then I accept." She nodded, then gave the signal for lines to be thrown. While the people and whatever supplies were still intact were brought aboard, the captain summoned Neelix.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Mr. Neelix, were you taken with us to… that strange place?"

"I was, at first. Then, for whatever reason, I was sent back here. The pirates were gone by the time I arrived, but since the red ship was still here, I can only guess that whatever it was that took us away took them too. A little strange, you know, to be the only one on a ship this size. Lucky you took my ship aboard before we vanished. Although now that I think about it, it's a little strange that the red ship didn't drift away…"

"How long were we gone?"

"I came back yesterday. It's midmorning, if you were wondering. But by my calendar, you've been gone for a total of three days."

"Three days!"

"Maybe a little more, I'm not certain. I managed to get a sighting off the stars, so at least I know where we are. If you want to land, I could direct you to a nearby island, of course."

She nodded absently. Tom Paris came running up to her.

"Captain, Ensign Kim didn't come back with us."

"What? Are you sure?"

"I double checked. He's gone."

She chewed on her lower lip and tried to think. Was he dead too? He was just a kid!

By now, all the renegades had been brought aboard and the other captain was approaching her. Some of her crew had drawn their knives and the renegades were moving for their own.

"Weapons down!" she said. "We didn't rescue these people just to attack them." She gave a stern look to her deckhands who slowly put their knives away. Then she faced the renegade captain and introduced herself. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway, of the Federation Sailing ship _Voyager_."

"Chakotay." He shook her outstretched hand and she found herself sizing him up. Tall, solid, with short black hair and skin only slightly darker than hers, he certainly didn't look as fearsome as she thought the renegades might be.

"Tell me, Captain," he said, "How did you end up all the way out here with us?"

At the sound of his voice, Tom turned around. Chakotay's eyes flew wide open when he recognized the man.

"Paris! What are you doing here?"

"I came along for the ride."

"That was how they found us, wasn't it? It was you! What was your price this time, traitor!" He shoved Paris in the chest as he shouted.

Janeway stepped between them. "I said none of us would lay a hand on you – I'd expect the same of you and your people. Mr. Paris is a member of my crew."

The hostility still hung in the air, but Chakotay backed away.

"Chakotay, are any of your crewmen missing? I can't find my navigator, Harry Kim."

He nodded. "As a matter of fact, my bosun is missing; B'Elanna Torres."

"It would seem we have the same problem. I think we should help each other out."

He considered this, looking over _Voyager, _then at his own ship. Janeway understood his hesitation. Being asked to work with your enemy was one of the hardest things a person could be asked to do. Chakotay probably suspected a trap. Despite everything she thought might be running through his head, he agreed.

"Well, your ship's in better condition than mine. We might as well."

Good. Begrudging help was better than no help at all. She only hoped they realized they needed her help as much as she needed theirs.

"All right. Now." Janeway turned to the scruffy local. "Mr. Neelix, have you heard of something like this happening before?"

"Actually, I've heard this story several times before." Some expression crossed his face – maybe a decision on a thought he had. "If you are as brave as you claim, I think I know where you can start looking for your missing crewmen."

Just a few hours later, _Voyager_ was pulling into a decrepit harbor. Decrepit being a generous term, of course. A few rotting buildings still stood on the deserted shoreline, but several were missing walls or roofs. Here and there were the pilings that were once part of the wharfs, jutting up through the water. Only on the posts closest to the shore did some of the original planks still cling to those pilings. _Voyager_ pulled up to the largest one and dropped anchor. Lt. Carey and a few deckhands did their best to tie up the boat without help from any shore men. Janeway watched with approval, still tasting the bitterness of the potion in her mouth. No doubt the Elixir of A Thousand Tongues would come in very useful in this part of the world. Zimmerman's Construct turned out to be as good as brewing potion as Zimmerman himself. Certainly better than the cut-rate seller she'd bought her last batch from. The last time she'd taken the potion, she'd had the hiccups for a week. This time, they only came occasionally. Tuvok caught her eye and motioned her over.

"I have measured out several vials of Thunderflash. I believe we may find them useful, should we encounter resistance." He held out the small bottles to show her.

"Good work, Lieutenant. And you've given our guests their own equipment?"

"I have."

"Then let's go." She ran her fingers over the lump in her pocket – the weight of the Dragon's Stone reassured her. Chakotay and Neelix were waiting for her near the gangplank.

"Captain!" called Paris, running over. "I'd like to go with you."

"If this is about what Chakotay said-"

"It's not. I just don't want to see anything happen to Harry."

She stared at him coolly. He was sincere. "Come on."


	7. Chapter 6

"Kazon pirates are treacherous, thieving, backstabbing thugs," Neelix explained. "There's no guarantee that they won't simply shoot us once we're in range and then rob our corpses." They strode over plains of sand and dirt, with only occasional patches of scraggly grass. Other than the grass, there wasn't a plant to be seen anywhere on the barren landscape. A rise some distance ahead of them hid the rest of the island from sight, but Janeway got the impression it wouldn't be any more impressive. There was something about this place that spoke of desolation.

"Noted," she said, shifting the weight of her pack to the other shoulder. "But we've got a few surprises they won't be expecting."

Neelix had told them that the Kazon were always looking for supplies of any kind. Looking, but willing to steal as soon as trade for them. Reflecting on the state of the harbor, Janeway realized she couldn't really expect anything else. Hopefully, the Federation steel ingot she carried would be valuable to the Kazon.

"I believe you," Neelix said, nodding toward the cut slope they were approaching. "We should have been challenged by now – they always patrol that slope. Whatever spell you're using is doing its job! We could walk right into their houses and they'd never know we were there!"

"What would be the point of that?" asked Chakotay. "We need to talk to them."

"Of-of course. I'm just saying it's a possibility." He sounded disappointed and Janeway shared a look with Tuvok. She wanted to hear his opinion, but he had almost all of his concentration on maintaining the Illusion spell that was hiding them all: Neelix, Chakotay, Paris and of course she and Tuvok himself. Anyone looking directly at them would only see a whirling cloud of dust; something Neelix had assured them was common on this island, and hopefully would be dismissed as one. After all, they wanted an audience with what Neelix called the maje – the leader of this sect – not to be stopped and robbed by one of the patrols.

No one spoke again until they were within sight of the settlement. Janeway could see several dozen figures moving back and forth between the houses, if one could call them such. The pitiful shelters were in as poor shape as the wharf at which they had landed. They were barely more than lean-tos, cobbled together from mud and rotten boards. The Kazon themselves were living extensions of the wilderness – hard and raw as the baked and barren land. Even going about their daily routine, they bristled with weapons. Their faces were carved expressions of hate and loathing. In the distance beyond the village, an inscrutable tower of stone rose up, overlooking the area for kilometers around.

"Weapons at the ready," commanded Tuvok, straining to do his duty even while under extreme duress. It was one of his defining characteristics and he did it so faithfully that the captain was almost sad when she had to countermand him.

"No," she said. "We don't want to look like an attacking force."

"Captain, I don't think they'll listen to us unless we threaten them," said Neelix.

"Maybe not, but it isn't Seafleet policy to go storming into a settlement, blades and bows drawn. Stay your weapons, all of you, until I say otherwise."

There was a subtle shuffling as everybody made sure their weapons were loose in their sheathes. Janeway nodded to Tuvok and he Terminated the spell. Instantly, there were shouts of alarm and bewilderment from the Kazon. People as hard and dirty as baked earth surrounded them, weapons drawn. The crew began to back away, hand going to their weapons despite Janeway's instructions.

"[None of you move!]" hollered a voice rife with fury. A towering figure wearing a red and green sash stepped out of the crowd that had gathered. He headed straight for Neelix, with a look on his face that suggested he wanted nothing more than to bite the man in half. Several Kazon grabbed Neelix and yanked his arms behind him.

"[Jabin!]" he squealed, trying to sound as if he was meeting a long lost acquaintance. "[How are you, my old friend?]"

This maje Jabin drew a long knife and pressed it to Neelix's throat, who paled.

"[I warned you never to return, thief,]" he growled. Janeway shot a look at Tuvok. Neelix didn't mention that he had a tarnished reputation in these parts.

He gulped and said, frantically, "[And I never did, until I had the payment I needed to repay you for what my crime!]"

"[You have nothing I want.]" The maje sounded disappointed even as he said it.

"[These people do!]" Neelix jerked his head toward Janeway and her crew, who were still surrounded by Kazon. "[They have stronger and better quality metal than anything you've ever discovered.]"

Jabin looked over at them. "[Show me.]"

Janeway carefully drew a small sample of ingot and passed it to him. He inspected it closely, then passed to another man. His greed seemed to outweigh his desire for revenge, which was clearly keeping Neelix alive.

"[You have more?]"

Janeway wasn't willing to throw away what was probably her only leverage with these people. She needed more information.

"[What exactly is this repayment for?]" she asked.

He glared at her. "[Why should you care? Who are you?]"

"[I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Sailing ship _Voyager_. I want to make sure we aren't violating Federation law by repaying, say, someone's blood money.]"

He snorted. "[Hardly. He wants to repay us for stealing one of our slaves.]"

She smothered a gasp. Slavery was absolutely forbidden anywhere in the Federation, but here it was apparently alive and kicking. "[He stole a slave?]"

"[_Tried_ to steal. Barely escaped with his life. Now he won't be so lucky.]"

The Prime Directive absolutely forbade her from doing anything to free the slave in question, but that didn't make Janeway feel any better about it. The Prime Directive was in place to prevent her from doing any harm to other cultures by preventing her from influencing them in any way. And, to her disgust, that included abolishing slavery. She had to play by the Kazon's rules for now, as much as she hated it.

"[Can't we buy her from you?]" asked Neelix, still restrained. "[The ingot is valuable enough for an entire ship full of slaves.]"

Jabin looked at the man who he'd thrown the first sample to. The man came over and spoke in excited tones, but Janeway couldn't understand what he said. She got the impression that he knew the ingot was high quality and was telling Jabin this.

"[Do you think I'm an idiot? It's good, but it's not that good.]"

Neelix's voice now took on a definite note of desperation. "[Will you at least let us consult with her? Some have said she's an oracle. Which, I must confess, is the reason I tried to take her in the first place.]"

"[Oracle?]" Jabin sneered. "[She's never foretold so much as a rainfall since she's been here.]"

"[If I may,]" said Neelix, "[Perhaps you simply don't know how to ask the questions. I can show you, if you like.]"

Jabin glared, then softened his expression as an idea came to him. "[Very well. You may consult the 'Oracle' for all the ingot you have.]" He reached for Janeway's pack, but she backed away.

"[Not until we see her,]" she said. Jabin glared at her, but she held her ground.

"[Fine. But if you start any trouble, I'll kill him and take the rest of you as slaves.]"

The Kazon pushed them all toward a hill just outside the settlement. Neelix was still held by two men, but not so tightly anymore. A cave opening yawned ahead of them, guarded by two more Kazon, its deep darkness a stark contrast to the brightness outside. Within its recesses, something stirred. Chakotay felt for his weapon, but a quick glance from Tuvok warned him not to. They would be too easily overwhelmed.

"[Don't worry,]" whispered Neelix. "[She won't hurt us.]"

"[Who is she?]" Janeway whispered back, finally tired of playing second fiddle to Neelix's negotiations. Then, realizing they had an advantage in knowing two languages, she began talking in Federation Common. "I thought you said you knew where our people were being held."

Neelix faltered for a moment, then switched to keep up with her. "Your people are probably with the Ocampa. She knows how to get there; that's why the Kazon captured her."

Janeway felt her anger rising. "If our people aren't even on this island, why did you bring us here in the first place?"

Neelix, sensing her anger, spoke quickly. "The Ocampa are here – they live in an underground city. When I came here the first time, she-" he gestured at the cave – " said strange people were appearing in their city. People said the Caretaker sent them. He's the one who provides everything the Ocampa need. She can probably show you how she got out and you can use that way to get in."

Janeway nodded. The Caretaker must be a being of incredible power if he could provide everything required for living in a city underground. "Is that why the Kazon want to get to the city? To take control of the Caretaker."

"Indirectly. No food can grow on this island, and they know the Ocampa have everything they need, while they have nothing."

The captain found her opinion of the Kazon changing. No wonder they were so harsh and brutal – it was more out of desperation than greed.

"[We'll take that ingot now,]" said Jabin as the group drew up to the mouth of the cave.

"[I want to see her,]" said Janeway. The Kazon parted, letting she and her crew inside. A pale, slight figure huddled against the back wall. It shivered at their approach and she heard heavy chains clinking. As her eyes adjusted, the captain could see that whoever this was wasn't much older than a teenager. Female, fragile as an eggshell and Janeway felt a surge of anger as she realized those dark spots on her skin weren't part of her normal color. Janeway turned from this frail figure and passed her pack to Jabin.

"[As we agreed.]"

"[It's a good start.]" Janeway stiffened. A cold knot of fear formed in the pit of her stomach and she bored her eyes into his.

"[It's what we agreed upon.]"

"[Yes, but you have so much more than we do. Perhaps you could spare some of these fine Federation weapons,]" he said, reaching for her sword.

"[We don't trade weapons,]" she said, moving back and grasping the handle. "[If you try anything, I'll show you just how 'fine' these weapons are.]"

Jabin's eyes narrowed and he snarled a command. Janeway heard her crew stiffen around her, but before anyone could move, there came a flicker of motion from Neelix. He grabbed a vial of Thunderflash and hurled it and the mouth of the cave. Before Jabin even had time to look surprised, a tremendous explosion ripped through the air. The rock of the cave mouth fractured, splintered, then gave way and collapsed.


	8. Chapter 7

Kim and Torres followed Diga out into the main passage of the building. Kim saw the light grow brighter and wondered if they were going to eat outside. A little fresh air would no doubt do the both of them some good. But when they reached the end of the passage, there was no sunlight to be found. In fact, it was something more incredible.

"We're underground!" said Kim, staring up at the almost inscrutable ceiling. From it hung what seemed be glowing stalactites. They glowed nearly as bright as daylight, illuminating the vast city below. Houses and business, carved out of the rock they stood on, stacked on top of each other, rose in columns to join with the roof. Several bridges and walkways crossed back and forth between them, connecting them together. Diga led them down flight after flight of stairs until they were nearly at the bottom of the massive cave. At the actual bottom ran a crystal clear river. Water wheels and aqueducts channeled the water to various points throughout the city. Kim couldn't help but marvel at it all. It had never occurred to him that places like this might actually exist outside fairy tales.

"[Yes, our society has lived here for over five hundred generations,]" said Diga.

"But before that, you lived on the surface?" asked Torres.

"[Until the Desolation came,]" said Diga, with something like longing in his voice.

"The desolation?" said Kim

"[We shared the island with another tribe, with whom we were continually fighting,]" said Diga. "[When all the plants on the surface began to die, we found we couldn't grow food. The other tribe though we stole their crops and attacked in even greater numbers, trying to find our supplies. Then the Caretaker came and saved us from them. He built this city for us and he's been our protector and provider ever since.]"

He led them to the head of a line where some kind of shapeless, colorless glop was being served. The other people in line stared at them with open curiosity. Kim stared right back. They gestured and pointed without saying a word and he remembered Diga's psionic communications. It was like being at a social gathering, only without anyone saying a single word.

"[Oh, please forgive them,]" he said. "[They know you've come from the Caretaker. None of us has ever seen him.]" He took two bowls and passed them to the pair. Kim sniffed at it without enthusiasm. He'd seen better-prepared dog food.

Diga must have noticed. "[It might not be what you're used to, but it's exactly what we need, and we're grateful for it.]" He led them to nondescript tables and they sat down. The bowls and utensils felt very strange, as if they were covered with a fine fuzz that prevented him from feeling their hard edges. Even the floor and table felt strange; almost soft. Kim turned his attention back to his bowl of mush. He took an unenthusiastic bite and felt his appetite vanish. Somehow, it tasted even less appealing than it looked. Torres dug in with gusto, leaving him to make conversation.

"So the Caretaker provides your meals too?" he asked.

"[Yes, everything we have was a gift from him.]"

Kim forced another bite down, knowing he needed his strength, but it was all he could do to keep it from coming back up.

"Did he give you your psionic abilities as well?"

"[No, the Ocampa have always been psions. Our ancient journals say we used to have incredible mental prowess, but it seems to have dwindled over time.]"

"You call yourselves the Ocampa?"

"[Yes; have I not mentioned it before? I apologize.]"

Kim nodded absently, looking around the courtyard. Thirty or so other Ocampa were gathered there, eating the so-called food. Some sat facing massive windows, nearly as big as _Voyager's _mainsail. Across them swam vibrant dancing colors in almost hypnotic patterns. A kind of musical humming came from the screens as well, giving him a little relief. If this place were any quieter, he would have screamed. Kim forced his attention back on Diga.

"Is that how the Caretaker communicates with you?"

"[He never communicates directly, but we interpret his wishes as best we can.]"

Torres nudged his arm, reaching for his bowl. Kim passed it to her and continued talking.

"Then, how have you interpreted the reason we were sent here? Do you know why?"

"[We think you were sent here for your people's protection.]"

Torres slammed her utensils on the table. "Their _protection?_"

"[Your condition might be some kind of sickness. We think he was trying to prevent a plague.]"

Torres held her hand in front of his face. "Does _this _look like a sickness to you? We're fading from some kind of spell!"

Kim grabbed her wrist to calm her down, but she twisted out of his grip and slammed his wrist down on the table. Kim, determined not to let her push him around anymore, tried to yank his wrist free. All he did was jerk her arm a little way across the table. He settled for not letting her see how much it was hurting him.

"Our people have advanced spell casting techniques," he said. "They might have a better idea of what's happening to us. Can you show us the way to the surface so we can find them?"

Diga shook his head. "[There is no way to the surface. The knowledge of the spell that led us there has been lost.]"

"Why?" she asked.

"[Why what?]"

"Why was the knowledge lost? Weren't you or your ancestors at least curious about the Caretaker? Or the surface?" Torres let go of Kim's wrist and he winced.

"[We are expected to trust the Caretaker,]" said Diga, an edge to his voice. Kim thought about talking her down, but decided he wanted to know as much as she did.

"So he just dropped you down here, gave you everything you wanted, disappeared and you all carried on with your merry lives? Without questioning how convenient it all seemed?"

"[He saved us from the attacks of the other tribe! All we ever wanted was peace and safety. Why would we question it when he gave it to us?]"

"That's understandable," said Kim. Torres shot him a look, then nodded as she realized he was right. Who wouldn't be thankful?

"But after five hundred generations, aren't you curious about the surface? Don't you want to go back up?" said Torres.

"[Why would we go back up? We have all we need down here.]"

Kim and Torres shared a look. Something about his answer seemed rehearsed.

"Were you ever forbidden from seeing the Caretaker?" asked Kim, hoping a slight change of subject might reveal something.

"[In the beginning, we were told that any kinds of visits might interrupt his work.]"

"Told by who?"

"[The elders. They are the traditional leaders of our tribe and the ones who interpret the Caretaker's wishes.]"

"So does he speak to them?"

Diga rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking exasperated. "[I have already said that he doesn't communicate directly. You two are trying my patience.]"

"Look, all we want to do is get to the surface," said Torres. "Is there someone who could take us there?"

"[We are not to go to the surface.]"

"I thought you said you had forgotten how; now it sounds like you're saying you aren't allowed."

"[That was a rule the elders set to keep us safe.]" He gave them a look that was almost a glare. "[Why are you two so inquisitive? None of the others asked these kinds of questions.]"

This was new information. "What others?"

Diga sighed. "[You are not the first sick strangers to come to our city. Others have been sent here.]"

Kim sat up, suddenly alert. Maybe there was a way out after all.

"Where are they?" he asked. "Can we talk to them?"  
"[I'm afraid your condition is quite serious,]" said Diga, speaking gently. "[The others did not survive more than a few days.]"

The air in the courtyard suddenly felt even colder than the stone room where Kim had first woken up. Torres jumped up, angry, but suddenly swayed on her feet. Diga stood to catch her, but she fought him off and groped for the table. She missed and Diga had to grab her anyway. Kim shook his head. He could have sworn her hand passed right through the table. He stood up to help and nearly fell himself. A wave of dizziness made the world spin around him and blackness pressed in on the edges of his vision. He fell back in to his seat, blinking hard. Diga waved someone over.

"[You must rest now. No more questions. We're taking you back to your quarters.]"

Neither of them was in a position to argue and simply let themselves be led up the stairs by Diga and a pair of orderlies. In the back of his mind, Kim felt a terrible fear developing. If they were disappearing, would they die? Or simply fade into limbo, never to be found by anyone again? He shivered.

"[Rest now,]" said Diga as they entered the room. "[I'll be back in a while.]"

Kim flopped down on his bed, while Torres had recovered enough to pace the room.

"We must have been getting to him," she said, voice echoing in the small space. "No wonder he put us back in here."

"He said we needed rest," said Kim. "We are pretty sick."

"That was just an excuse."

Kim shrugged at that. She was right; Diga wanted them where they wouldn't stir up so much trouble. But why had they gotten so sick all of a sudden? And come to think of it, why was her voice echoing so much in the small room?

"Your voice is echoing," he said.

"So is yours," she answered. He hadn't noticed. "It must be some kind of effect of this spell."

"Did I see your hand go through the table earlier?"

"Yeah. Well, only my fingers did." She rubbed her hand, thinking. "The Ocampa can't help us. We have to find a way out of here."

"Now?" Disappointment rose up in him. He had hoped to rest for a little bit.

She took a deep breath, probably to argue some more, but all her strength seemed to vanish. She sat down on the pile of fabric that used to be her bed with a sigh.

"Have it your way, Seafleet. A few minutes rest probably won't hurt."


	9. Chapter 8

**Ch.8**

Janeway and the crew dove for the floor, barely inches away from the tons of rock crashing down from the cave ceiling. Rocks and dirt showered them, filling the air with choking dust. Soon, the sound of falling rock gave way to the sound of people coughing and choking. Janeway heaved a huge breath and called out, "Is everyone all right?"

They answered one by one and began digging themselves out. As the dust settled, they were relieved to discover that it was not pitch black in the cave. Crystals in the ceiling gave off a dim, watery light. It was by this light that they checked each other over. Most fortunately, no one was seriously injured. Once she was certain everyone was safe, Janeway rounded on Neelix.

"Just what the hell were you thinking? You almost got us killed!" The captain was by no means an exceptionally short woman and in fact had a few inches on Neelix, but in her anger she positively towered over the scruffy Talaxian.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think the cave would collapse. But the Kazon are dangerous – I didn't think we would've gotten out of there alive unless I did something."

"If you had told us your plan beforehand, we might have anticipated your irrational course of action," said Tuvok.

"Irrational?" Neelix looked hurt. "We got out of there, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but now we're trapped!" said Paris. Neelix scowled at him and Janeway could see that the whole situation was about to spin out of control. However, before she could do anything, a new voice spoke up.

"[Excuse me.]" The girl's voice was deep, deeper than anyone would have expected from someone so small. Now that they had adjusted to the low light, Janeway could clearly see her face. It shone with angelic innocence, but there was a measure of wisdom in her eyes that Janeway hadn't expected. She looked around to see all of them staring at the girl. Tuvok looked curious, Chakotay moreso and Paris' interest was plain on his face.

"[There might be another way out of the cave,]" she said. "[If someone has the keys for these locks, I could show you how I got in.]"

"[Tuvok, can you remove her shackles?]" asked Janeway.

The Vulcan inspected them and nodded. "[This will take but a moment.]"

"[What's your name?]" said Janeway.

The girl smiled. "[Kes. I've never seen anyone like you before. What are your names?]"

"[I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway,]" she said. "[This is Lieutenant Tuvok, Mr. Paris, Mr. Chakotay and you already seem to know Neelix.]"

They nodded politely as she introduced them. One of the shackles came loose and clattered to the floor. Kes jumped a little.

"[Did I injure you?]" asked Tuvok.

"[No, I'm fine. I'm just happy to get these shackles off. I've had them on for so long; my arms feel strange now that they're so light again.]"

"[How did you find your way to the surface?]" said Chakotay.

"[I was looking for the ancient passageways.]" She quickly explained how the Caretaker had sent the Ocampa underground for their protection. "[We were warned never to go to the surface. Once I saw the sunlight, nothing else mattered. I never thought the ancient tribe could still be around. They spotted me at once and locked me up when they couldn't find the way down.]" She sighed. "[It's my own fault I was caught. I'm too curious. I'm told it's my worst failing.]"

Neelix caressed her face. "[No, no dearest. It's your best quality. It's wonderful.]"

The other shackle clanked on the floor. Kes rubbed her wrists gingerly.

"[Are you injured?]" said Tuvok.

"[No, just a little sore. It feels so good to finally have those off. Thank you.]"

"[You are welcome.]" He stood and helped her to her feet.

"[How did you get those off without a key?] asked Neelix.

"[I picked the lock. It is a skill I would have thought someone in your profession might have already possessed.]"

Neelix stroked the whiskers on the sides of his face. "[No, not really. I'm better at talking people into giving me their keys or opening the door themselves.]"

Paris, no doubt recalling the trouble Neelix managed to get them all into in the first place, cleared his throat at this. Janeway ignored him.

"[Incredible,]" said Neelix. "[I never would have thought to open the lock without a key. You Federations are obviously an advanced culture.]"

The group started shoving aside some of the larger rocks that blocked their way to the lower part of the tunnel that had come loose in the explosion.

"[The Federation is made up of many cultures,]" Tuvok continued. "[I am Vulcan.]"

Neelix threw his arms around Tuvok, who suddenly looked as uncomfortable as Janeway had ever seen him. It took all her self-control not to smile at the scene. Paris sounded like he was suppressing his laughter. Chakotay wasn't even looking.

"[Well, whatever you call yourself, Mr. Vulcan, thank you for freeing my dear Kes!]"

He finally let go and frowned when he saw her moving the rocks.

"[My dear, you shouldn't exert yourself so much. You've been in such poor health for so long-]"

"[I'm fine. It feels good to move around. Why don't you help instead of fussing over me?]"

Neelix looked like he was going to object, but he met Kes's gaze and simply began moving rocks.

After several minutes, there was enough room for them to proceed into the tunnels. While they had been working, Janeway had explained their situation to Kes, including their search for their crewmen.

"[It's been happening for some time now,]" said Kes. "[The Caretaker sends sick people to the Ocampa, who take care of them.]"

"[Sick?]" said Janeway. "[What's wrong with them?]"

"[I never saw the strangers. I didn't actually live in the city, where they appeared. My home is in the nearby village.]"

"[That's a start,]" said Chakotay. "[Can you take us there?]"

"[Of course. This way.]" Kes stepped over the low pile of rocks, but Neelix jumped in front of her.

"[There's no need to go all the way down,]" he said. "[They're smart; they'll find the path.]"

Kes smiled gently at him. "[The tunnels are confusing. It's better if we all go together. And I'm the only one who can show them the way in.]"

"[Fine, show them, but once we get out, we'll take my boat to the next country,]" said Neelix.

"[Neelix, these people rescued me!]"

"[_I_ rescued you-]"

"[-With their help. It would be wrong not to help them now.]"

"[Especially after that stunt you pulled with the cave entrance,]" added Paris. Janeway gave him a look and he shrugged, as if to say, _I'm right, aren't I?_

She went right back to ignoring him, instead focusing on Kes's newly revealed iron will. Neelix was a stubborn creature, she knew that, but Kes so far had not backed down from him. How strange that so frail a girl could have such an indomitable spirit. Neelix's stubborn resolve melted in the face of Kes's own and he sighed with nothing less than utter adoration.

"[This way,]" said Kes, leading the group deeper into the tunnels.

"[Isn't she remarkable?]" said Neelix, walking after her.


	10. Chapter 9

**Ch.9**

Kim had woken up to find Torres rattling the handle on their door with considerable violence. She swore at it when it didn't open, first in Federation Common, then presumably in Klingon.

"Damn this door! _guy'chavam lojmIt!"_ she roared, wrenching it with all her might. Nothing happened and she let out a viscous snarl. Harry didn't say anything. He was frustrated too, for sure, but brute strength wasn't going to get them out of this. They needed a plan, a strategy. Trouble was, he couldn't think of one. He was just too exhausted. And now that exhaustion was now only matched by the incredible feeling of worry at his condition. He couldn't stop staring at his hands. They seemed to come in focus and fade with each heartbeat. He could almost see the outlines dissolving a little more each time. Torres, meanwhile, wouldn't stop stomping back and forth across the room. Well, stomping wasn't the right word, since now both of them were indistinct enough that just walking on the floor felt like slogging through loose sand. He wanted to say something, anything that might reassure her, but he couldn't find the words to reassure himself.

"This is insane!" she said, voice now echoing as if they were standing in a cathedral. She slapped at the door, but her hand merely disappeared partway into the wood instead of making any kind of impact.

"You should save your strength," said Kim, just to say something.

"Save it for what?" She made a good point and he fell silent.

"I can't believe this! I've been in worse scrapes than this and now I'm gonna die because I can't open a stupid locked door!"

They both looked at it, as if simple scrutiny would reveal all the secrets it held. It was made of wood, secured with iron bands and held in place with iron hinges. It swung out to open whenever the attendants came to check on them and squeaked when it was halfway shut. There was nothing spectacular about this door compared to any other he'd seen; yet it held them trapped.

Or was it so ordinary? He looked a little closer and realized they'd overlooked a glaring detail.

"Are we so sure it's locked?" he asked. She looked at him as if he'd just asked her to drink the ocean.

"What are you, stupid? We can't open it from this side, ergo it's locked."

"Well, yes, but all we've done is push on it. Did you see that there's no latch on this side?"

That brought her to a stop. "Fine, so there isn't a latch on this side. It's not like I can reach through and-"

Now her eyes were wide and locked on his. Suddenly the illness wasn't quite as terrifying as it had been.

"Maybe you couldn't have a couple of hours ago, but now…" he let it hang.

"I'm warning you, Seafleet, if I get stuck in there for one minute-"

"I'll pull you out, I promise."

She walked over to the door and pressed her hand on what was likely the latch side and pressed with all her might. Slowly, her hand fell into the wood, further and further. She concentrated; her heavy brow twisted in a dark knot that suggested it was not only difficult, it was painful. After what felt like an hour, something clicked and she pulled her hand back out. The door swung open with no problem.

"I can't believe that worked," he said.

"I think I've got some splinters under my skin," she answered, rubbing her hand.

"Let's go." They moved out of the room as quickly as they dared and ran headlong into an Ocampa in the hallway. She nearly fell over, but Kim grabbed at her with his blurry hands. She slipped out of his indistinct grasp onto the floor anyway. Undeterred, she jumped right back on to her feet.

"_Do-ung shai'zai jian duan rui?" _she said and Kim translated something like 'do you feel better than from before?'

"I understood that!" said Kim. "How did I understand her?" Torres shrugged.

"That psionic link must have done more than simply translate the language. We must have learned it, too."

Both fascinated and disturbed by learning a language without realizing it, he tried to speak it for himself.

"[We are not as well as we want to be,]" he said. "[Can you understand me?]"

She actually smiled at them. "[Yes! How did you get out?]"

"[What about me?]" said Torres, trying the new language for herself.

"[Yes, but how did you get out?]" said the woman.

"[I reached through the door and turned the handle,]" said Torres, challenging her.

The woman didn't look like she believed it. "[Well, in any case, you need to save your strength.]"

"[For what?]" asked Kim, taking a page from Torres's book.

"[They were right – you do ask a lot of questions. No Ocampa would ask as many questions or say such things as you do. I brought you this –]" she passed Kim a vial. "[It's a medicine. It comes from the Upper Village, where they grow their food instead of relying on the Caretaker. The elders say it's disrespectful to the Caretaker, but they do it anyway.]" She met their eyes slowly, trying to find words.

"[I'm very sorry for what's happened to you. I'd give you answers if I had them, but so many things are uncertain lately. People appear out of thin air and then slowly disappear the same way, the Caretaker has been sending us enough supplies to last years – it seems like everything is changing.]"

"[Why are you helping us?]" said Torres. Kim shot her a look, worried that she was jeopardizing their chances, but she ignored him.

"[I heard the questions you asked Diga. They made me think. What if there's more to our life than just staying down here?]"

Answering any question this woman had was a violation of the Prime Directive. Every Seafleet trained part of Kim was screaming to preserve this woman from any outside influences, but she was sincere in her want of knowledge. And her want could save their lives.

"[Yes, there is more to see outside your city. We need to get to the surface to find our people and you want to see it. Maybe we should work together.]"

The woman gave a wan smile. "[All right. But I don't know where to start.]"

"[Have you heard of anyone leaving?]" asked Kim.

"[There was one girl who left, supposedly. But no one really knows for sure. She didn't come from the city, so it might only be a rumor.]" The woman's eyes flicked about, as if she was worried someone would overhear. "[The elders would say it's against the Caretaker's wishes for you, or anyone, to leave.]"

"[What do you say?]" asked Torres, challenging yet gentle.

Now she looked distinctly nervous and actually spoke in a whisper. "[I don't want you to suffer, of course, but I honestly don't know the way out.]"

The two strangers looked at each other, sad.

"[Well, they might know something I don't in the Upper Village – I can take you there, at least.]"

She began walking and Kim and Torres came after her, quick as they could manage.

The woman led them between houses and over bridges for nearly an hour. They eventually turned into a small, forgotten tunnel in what had to be the outermost wall of the cave the city had been carved out of. Ancient stairs had been cut into the stone, leading upwards to infinity. A thick layer of dust coated everything. Kim gazed up into the darkness, imagining the grueling hike that lay ahead and suddenly he couldn't take it anymore. He groped at the wall for support, then felt his knees give way. Torres slapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on, get up."

"I – I can't," he gasped.

"Don't let it beat you, Seafleet!" she snarled, tugging on his arm.

"[Wait, please don't fight,]" said the woman. "[We'll need a light. You rest here and I'll go get one.]"

Torres nodded and she left. The half Klingon sat down a few steps ahead of the young Human; grateful too for the respite.

Kim watched the woman leave, glanced up the dark staircase and felt the weakening of his body. He gave an ironic chuckle.

"You know, I spent my whole life getting ready for Seafleet." His hopelessness must have come through in his tone, because he felt Torres's hand rest lightly on his shoulder. Or as much as it could rest, since he was so faded all he could feel was a faint pressure.

"And on my first mission…" he reached up to intertwine his fingers with hers as best he could. "I'm gonna die…"

She squeezed his hand with both of hers, somehow feeling all the more solid for its sincerity. "We're not out of this yet. I know a few tricks old Sneezy didn't teach in his survival course."

Kim turned to see her smiling, actually _smiling_ kindly at him. He couldn't remember her doing it before now and suddenly wished she'd done it earlier. The effect was startling and delightful; she looked like a whole different person.

"Sneezy?" he finally repeated, remembering he didn't know what she was talking about.

"Commander Zakarian, remember?" She joggled his arm playfully. "He must have been allergic to everything."

The memory of a white-hair man with watery red eyes flashed in his mind. He couldn't picture the man without a handkerchief, even on those weeklong training hikes that always seemed like they'd be the death of him.

"_You_ went to the academy?"

She nodded, eyes distant. "Actually made it to my second year before we 'mutually agreed' that it wasn't the place for me."

Kim nodded, recognizing the euphemism for expulsion. He squeezed her hand in sympathy and she withdrew it, the moment of rapport leaving with it.

"I fit in a lot better with the renegades," she finished with a shrug.

"You know, I never really liked Zakarian," he said. It was easier to say than what he had wanted to say.

She seemed to hear him both ways and gave him a playful shove. They sat on the stairs in an easy silence, resting, waiting for their guide to return.


	11. Chapter 10

Kes stopped just ahead of the group and waited for them there. She was standing next to some kind of strange column that seemed to glow in the dim light.

"[This is it. This crystal responds to simple thought commands," said Kes. "It will send us wherever I tell it. I don't think we can teleport directly into the Lower City with a group this big. We could try for the Upper Village and head down.]"

"[Sounds like a plan,]" said Janeway.

"[All right then. Everyone join hands. I'll do the rest.]" There was a pause and then Janeway's cool hand slipped into Kes's elfin one. She laid her free hand on the crystal and thought, very clearly, _Upper Village_.

Janeway felt as though she was sinking into cool water as the magic took effect. The coolness sank deeper and deeper into her skin until it was soaking her bones. There came a strange pulling sensation that made her feel as if she was being stretched from head to toe like an elastic band. Suddenly, everything snapped back together and they were standing in an enormous cave. It was brighter than the one they had left and every part of the walls was covered with plants and flowers. Sunlight, or something almost exactly like it came from more crystals in the ceiling.

"That was a little strange," said Chakotay, just to have something to say.

"Indeed," Tuvok answered. Janeway looked around, trying to get a better sense of where they were, but plants and planters blocked her view. A dart of movement caught her attention nearby. She moved for her sword, but suddenly a voice shouted, "[Kes! You're back!]"

Kes grinned, and suddenly a dozen Ocampa surrounded them. A trait of their tribe must have youthfulness, Janeway concluded, as she saw that not one of them seemed over the Human age of twenty. Their shouts of laughter and excitement were so childlike and exuberant that the crew felt their spirits lifting a little.

"[Where have you been?]" they asked. "[Why are you hurt? Who are they?]"

"[It will take a while to explain,]" she answered, still returning friendly embraces and grinning at them.

_-Then you should begin explaining,-_ came a voice that was not so much a voice as an idea shaped like a voice. It simply appeared in their heads without any kind of warning. The Humans twisted and spun around, looking for the source.

Kes turned and faced the open side of the large cave, occupied by a silhouette.

"[These people can't thought-send,]" Kes said in a voice of iron. "[Please talk aloud.]"

_-I respect the traditions of the elders,-_ the voice answered. _-The same can't be said of you, it seems.-_

Janeway suppressed a gasp. _Psions!_

"[I have nothing to hide, Toscat. Why not come out where we can see you? Or do _you_ have something to hide?]"

A tall man, about thirty but moving as though he were much older, stepped into view. His face was prideful, but turned to contempt as he saw the newcomers.

_-What right do you have to bring them here? This is surely against all wishes of the Caretaker!-_

"[They only want to find their people,]" said Kes, striding up to him. "[They needed my help and I gave it to them. Surely helping others is the will of the Caretaker.]"

Toscat eyed her warily. _-Perhaps. But there are ways to help others without defying him in this way.-_

Kes all but glared at him, then spoke loud enough to address the other Ocampa.

"[Does anyone know where the strangers the Caretaker sends are kept?]"

It was quiet for a moment, and the captain wondered if anyone was even going to answer. Finally, a voice near the open side of the cave spoke up.

"[They might be at the hospital in the Lower City,]" a woman said.

"[Let's go,]" said Kes, leading the way. Toscat, angry and nearly dumbfounded with Kes's actions, moved to block them all.

"[No outsiders in the Lower City,]" he said, speaking awkwardly and louder than necessary. Janeway guessed it had been quite some time since he had used his actual voice. "[If you won't obey the Caretaker, you will obey our rules.]"

"[But the Caretaker has been sending strangers into the Lower City for weeks,]" said Kes, trying to punch a hole in his logic. Toscat floundered at this, but before he could protest, someone actually walked out of the tunnel. The new Ocampa woman wore something official-looking and was followed by two indistinct figures. Janeway rubbed her eyes, trying to bring them into focus before she realized this was how they _actually_ appeared. She didn't recognize the blurry female, but the male waved at her.

"Captain!" he called, voice echoing as if from a deep well and with a mixture of wonder and fear, she saw it was Harry Kim.

"B'Elanna!" said Chakotay, rushing over to the female. She didn't wave at him, but seemed relieved all the same. Janeway strode over to Kim and tried to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but it slipped through with almost no resistance.

"[What's happening to them?]" Janeway demanded of the woman. She shrugged. "[The strangers appear like this. Nothing we do helps – the doctors have tried everything they could think of.]"

Janeway swallowed back a wave of fear. She had never seen or heard of anything like this. It had to be a spell of some kind – what disease could make someone appear as if they were made from fog?

"[Have you tried counter spells?]" asked Tuvok, seeming to read Janeway's mind.

"[Of course. The only spell that might have worked was Force Link, but none of us were compatible.]"

"[When did you try that?]" said Torres.

"[While you were asleep. At least, that's what the healers said when I asked them.]"

"[So, why didn't it work?]"

"[Our tribes are too different. No Ocampa can share their life force with a Human.]" The woman looked down at the floor. "[I wish there was something I could do, but…

"[Their tribesmen are here now,]" said Kes. "[Could you create the Force Link between two people?]"

The woman straightened up, a ghost of a smile on her face. "[Yes. But this is only a temporary solution. It will buy them time, nothing more.]"

"[Time is what we need,]" said Janeway. "[The only person who can reverse this spell is the Caretaker, so that's where we need to go next.]"

"[All right. I'll need a volunteer for each of them.]"

"[I'll link with Harry,]" said Tom.

"[And I'll take B'Elanna,]" said Chakotay. The woman nodded, then motioned them over. The gathering watched as she placed one hand on Kim's chest and the other in the same place on Paris. She concentrated for a moment, then Paris seemed grow dim. A light passed from him, through the woman and into Kim, who became nearly solid. She repeated the process for Chakotay and Torres. The four of them stood there a moment, blinking slowly. Then they came out of their reverie; Kim and Torres looking quite relieved. Janeway nodded at them, then turned to Kes.

"[Do you know how to reach the Caretaker from here?]"

Kes began to reply, but Toscat cut her off, livid. "[You can't actually be considering this! Nobody is to look upon the Caretaker, ever!]"

"[Why not?]" asked Kes, curious, but with growing anger. "[Why are we not allowed to question him? Is it because we might find out that his word is actually the word of the elders?]" She turned to look at the other Ocampa who stood listening. "[They're telling us what _they_ want, not what the Caretaker wants.]"

"[Enough!]" shouted Toscat. "[I will hear no more of this! How dare you dishonor the teachings of the Caretaker?]"

"[What have we learned?]" she demanded. "[Dependency, how to stop thinking for ourselves, how to accept whatever we're told, do what we're told? No. We've lost more than we've gained. I'm through quietly listening. I want to see the world for myself.]" She turned away and headed back to the transport crystal, the crew following behind her.

"[STOP!]" cried Toscat, sounding more desperate than angry now. "[Kes, if you leave, you won't be allowed back! Place a single hand on that crystal and I'll banish you for good!]"

"[I was never planning on coming back,]" she said, touching the crystal. The entire group vanished in a flash of light, leaving Toscat alone with the bewildered Ocampa.

Again, the cool darkness snapped back together and Janeway found herself standing in the watery light of the cave. Torres and Kim let out painful moans as they rematerialized, clutching their sides. The captain darted over to them, fearful there had been some kind of disastrous side effect.

"Are you all right, Ensign?" she asked. He nodded, pain clouding his eyes.

"[I don't think they can do that again,]" said Kes. "[We'll have to find another way to the Caretaker's hideout.]"

Chakotay frowned. "[We don't have time for-]" he started, but a shuddering thud cut him off.

"[What was that?]" asked Paris.

"[I think it came from outside the tower,]" said Neelix. Another thud came, followed by a faint vibration.

"[Tuvok, I need you to find out what's happening,]" said the captain. Tuvok nodded, folding his hands and closing his eyes. He concentrated for a moment, then a glowing shape drifted out of him and through the cave wall. Janeway counted five thuds before Tuvok opened his eyes and turned to face her.

"[The Kazon are detonating charges against the tower's outer wall. It will not maintain its structural integrity for much longer. However, I have discovered an ancient staircase leading to the top, along with another teleportation crystal close to the entrance of the hideout.]"

"How did he do that?" whispered Kim.

"It's a Vulcan spell for remote viewing," answered Paris. At Kim's frown, he added, "I know, but you can usually trust a Vulcan not to spy on you for fun. After all, they don't believe in fun."

"[Kes,]" said Janeway. "[Can you send Tuvok and I to the top alone?]"

"[I think so.]"

"[All right, we'll go that way and the rest of you take the stairs and catch us up at the top.]" She plucked a long dead torch from a rusted bracket and met each of their eyes in turn. "[We're getting out of here, right now.]"

They joined hands and the spell took effect. When reality snapped back together, they stood in inky blackness. The darkness was cool and musty; it seemed to cling to their skin. Janeway drew the Dragon's Stone from her pocket and breathed gently on it. A swirling flame cut through the darkness and instantly lit the torch. Kes watched it for a moment, then said, "[I should go back. They might need my help.]"

Janeway smiled at her. Kes had barely met the crew and was already willing to help and protect them. She laid a hand on the Ocampa's shoulder and spoke again.

"[Go. We can take care of ourselves.]"

Kes nodded, then laid her hand on the crystal. She vanished in a flash of light and then they were alone. Janeway turned to face her second officer and gestured into the darkness.

"Shall we?"


	12. Chapter 11

Not knowing at all what to expect around the corner, the pair moved slowly and silently onwards. Janeway's thoughts were not on what they might meet ahead of them, but with her crew. Were they all right? Had the Kazon found the ship? Was there anything they could do for Harry? Or the renegade woman, Torres? And how in Heaven's Name were they supposed to get home again?

They came upon an ancient door that stood halfway open. Beyond it was a room filled with a mage's artifacts. Shelves lined every wall and every shelf was full of books. Tables covered with exotic artifacts stood haphazardly throughout the room and from the ceiling hung all kinds of herbs, plants and more instruments. Near the fireplace stood an old man, hunched over in deep thought. The pair shared a look, then stepped deeper inside.

"[Are you the one the Ocampa call the Caretaker?]" asked Janeway. The old man ignored her, still shuffling around the room. He spoke, but as if to empty air.

"[Caretaker… they called me that once. They were young…]"

Janeway shot another glance at Tuvok, who gave a Vulcan version of a shrug, mostly using a facial expression.

"[I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation sailing ship _Voyager_,]" she said, hoping one introduction might prompt another. No such luck.

"[Sailing vessel containing various specimens of strange tribes… very far… only two samples…]" he mumbled.

"[Caretaker, sir, we need you to send us home.]"

"[Home is an impossible dream, a forgotten place. The mission must be completed at all costs. No time.]" He walked in front of them as he said this, picking up a piece of paper. She took his arm and pulled him around to face her. "[What mission? Why is it so important?]"

He paused, then gently touched her arm in wonder. "[So you are here. Not another hallucination. Which would make you my first visitors in almost a century.]"

"[What mission? Why is there no time left?]" she demanded. He grinned in an almost delusional way and leaned away from her.

"[What mission, she says. What mission indeed. What have I been doing, am doing now? Too much, too much to explain. No time.]"

She grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look her in the face.

"[I'm not going to sit here and listen to you babble in riddles,]" she said. "[Tell me what I want to know or I'm going to use force to get it out.]"

He giggled unnervingly, then focused on her. "[Well, aren't you contentious for a half-evolved barbarian? Let me see now, let me see…]"

"[How do I explain the mission I've been on for so long I can't remember doing anything else?]" He gave a flick of his wrist and a chair came sliding up. Sinking down into it, he spoke with more confidence and lucidity than he'd shown so far.

"[I came across this tiny island lifetimes ago, when I was young and strong. The Ocampa lived on the surface then, under constant attack from the Kazon. I thought I could help them – would you have done any different? – and I tried a new spell I had invented. I only wanted to stunt the growth of the Kazon food supply – now the whole island is cursed. Food will never grow here again. It was my fault. How do you live with that? That knowledge? I ruined this place. In my guilt, I created the underground city for the Ocampa and I've been watching over them ever since. Childlike, elfish people. To them, who had never seen such magic, I was some sort of demi-god. They don't live very long, you know? Only nine years, at most. Can you believe that? To them, I arrived a thousand generations ago. They've come to rely on me completely. But even I don't live forever. I need a replacement.]"

Janeway's eyes went wide. "[We're not going to be your successors.]"

"[Oh please. No one can do what I do. You could never handle it. Too much to do, to watch, to maintain. No, no, you couldn't do it. I need a replacement, one that can act and think and react exactly like me.]"

"[You've been trying to build a _Construct?]_"

He nodded. "[As you understand it, yes. But not one made of ether. Ether will eventually fail and dissipate. But a 'Construct' made of life force can maintain itself.]"

Comprehension flooded her. "[That's what you've been doing to our people – taking their life force for yourself!]" Cold fury followed swiftly. "[They're dying for your experiment, against their will!]"

"[And in vain!]" he shouted, flinging a beaker to the floor. It smashed and smoked as its contents evaporated. "[It's not working! Nothing I've tried is making any kind of difference. And now I'm out of time. What am I supposed to do now?]"

"[Out of time – you keep saying that. What's about to change?]"

"[I'm dying. I've been getting weaker for weeks. You wonder how the Kazon explosives are making a difference in the superstructure of this tower? It's a part of me. The weaker I get, the more effective the explosions are and the more they damage me. Don't try to work it out – you don't understand it.]"

"[How much time do you have left?]" asked Tuvok.

"[I'm not going to see the sunset.]"

Janeway's blood ran ice cold. She grabbed him by the shoulders and stared directly into his eyes. "[If you die, how the hell are we supposed to get home?]"

His expression turned to one of such utter anguish that she actually felt a twinge of sorrow for him. He let out a shuddering sigh that was almost a sob.

"[I've destroyed so much trying to fix my mistake… you, your people, the Ocampa – oh, Spirits, the Ocampa!]" He lapsed into a fit of sobbing and muttering.

Feeling a certain discomfort at the old man crying over his life, Janeway asked him gently, "[Have you considered letting the Ocampa take care of themselves?]"

He scoffed. "[They're children!]"

"[Children have to grow up. In fact, we would never have found our way up here without the help of a brave Ocampa girl.]"

He looked at her with new eyes. "[Is that so? All this time taking care of them and I never bothered to find out what they were really like.]"

As if to underscore her point, Kes suddenly appeared at the door, followed by Neelix, Paris, Kim, Chakotay and Torres. The latter four looked pale, but determined.

"Captain, the Kazon are in the tower," said Paris. "It won't take them long to find these stairs."

"Seal the door – try to buy us some time," she said. Paris nodded and shoved the door shut. The others moved to help him push one of the bookcases in front of it. Janeway motioned Kes over to where she was standing.

"[This is Kes,]" the captain explained. "[She never met us before today, but already she has helped us locate and rescue our people from the underground city.]"

"[You are an Ocampa?]" the Caretaker asked.

Kes smiled. "[Yes. Don't you know us? Aren't you the Caretaker?]"

"[I am. But you look different than the Ocampa I met so long ago. You must be the first one of your kind to look on me in nearly a hundred years. What do you think?]"

She flicked a sideways glance at Neelix and shrugged.

"[I'll admit you aren't what I expected. But I'm glad to have seen you. You must be very smart, with all these books and instruments that you use. Is there a way for you to visit the city? Can you teach us what you know? They are good and want to know you.]"

"[Your people locked us back in our cell when we asked them why they didn't think for themselves!]" snarled Torres, shoulder against the bookshelf.

"[Not all Ocampa are that closed-minded,]" said Kes, frowning. She turned back to the Caretaker. "[Many of the elders have been ruling as they liked, saying what they did was your will. But there are still some who will listen.]"

"[Kes is one of them,]" Janeway said to the Caretaker. "[She spoke out against her village leader in front of all the people, rebuking him for being so stubborn.]"

"[There are others like me,]" Kes said. "[They'll listen to whatever you say; I know they will.]"

The Caretaker listened to all this intently. Then he seemed to reach a decision.

"[Maybe there's something I can do after all…]" He moved over to a large spell book and began leafing through it.

"[I'm going to send them all the knowledge they need to survive as a people. They'll have to discover how to use it for themselves.]"

"[Why not come down and teach us? We've been hoping to see you for many years.]"

He shook his head. "[It's too late for me. My time is over. You could teach them.]"

"[No, my place is on the surface, with Neelix,]" she said. "[They'll just have to learn it all on their own.]" Janeway noticed that Kes didn't mention her recent banishment. The Caretaker placed a trembling hand on her shoulder, clearly proud of the people he never really knew, despite his position as their protectorate.

"[And us?]" asked Janeway, making sure he didn't forget they were still there.

His face was the picture of regret. "[I owe you more than I could ever hope to repay, but I can't send you back to where you were.]" He tore a spell from another book, scribbled something on it and handed it to her. "[This will reverse the Life Drain on your crewmen. Long Ears, can you Scry?]"

"[Yes,]" said Tuvok, coming over. The Caretaker handed him a mirror. "[Contact your ship. No doubt the Kazon are on their way to capture it. Tell them to depart immediately.]"

"[What?]" asked Janeway.

"[Don't worry.]" He held what looked like a ball of shimmering light and threw it at the wall. Something crackled and light shone from between the stones. "[This is a portal that will take you directly to your ship.]"

Tuvok held up the mirror, asking for confirmation to scry. "[Do it,]" said Janeway.

He began to concentrate as the group moved away from the barricaded door. In the silence, they heard the shouting of the Kazon in the stairway.

"[Here, take these,]" said the Caretaker, taking something out of a drawer. He held out a dagger each for Torres and Kim. Torres' had a set of wicked-looking teeth on its spine, while Kim's seemed to resemble a knife from a Federation tribe.

"[They're in no condition to fight,]" said Chakotay.

"[They may have to – you all may have to fight your way out of this tower.]" He turned to Janeway. "[I've made a lot of mistakes in my arrogance. I guess I should have listened to specimens – you people – whoever you are. And the Ocampa-]" he looked at Kes – "[I certainly should have listened to them. I should have done many things…]" Something exploded behind the barricade, shaking the whole room. The Caretaker winced in pain and fell against the chair. His breathing became shallow and ragged.

"[Now I have to ask something I have no right to ask of you,]" he said to Janeway in a pained voice. "[My great spell book – you must not let the Kazon get it, at any cost.]" He looked at the torch in her hand, which she had nearly forgotten. "[Your Dragon Fire can destroy it.]"

"[But we could use it!]"

"[Use it, take it, destroy it – but don't let the Kazon get it!]"

Tuvok laid down the mirror on the desk and inspected the Caretaker's spellbook.

"[I have instructed Lieutenant Rollins to sail immediately,]" he said. "[Captain, these spells are extremely complicated and written in a language I do not recognize. We will not be able to cast the spell in time.]"

"[Fine, we'll take it with us and use it once we're out of danger,]" she said. They all watched as Tuvok tried and failed to lift the book from the table. The spine was bolted to the stand it rested on with a massive pin. The lock that held the pin in place was just as big.

"[Where's the key for that lock?]" asked Kes.

"[I destroyed it,]" said the Caretaker. "[You will have to pick it.]"

Tuvok studied the lock for a moment, but didn't seem to see a way to open it. He made a valiant attempt to rip the pages out, but with no success.

"[Why aren't the pages coming out?]" asked Chakotay.

"[They're sealed with binding runes. I never bothered to research the counter-spell,]" said the Caretaker. Another explosion shook the room, making the bookshelf by the door rattle. The Caretaker winced and fell to the floor.

"[What are you talking about?]" shouted Torres over the sound of falling books. "[Didn't you write the book?]"

"[No. It was never mine. I only used it.]" He gave a painful grunt and doubled over.

"[Could you teach us how to use it?]" asked Janeway. "[The way you taught the Ocampa?]"

He shook his head, almost trembling with pain. Now they could hear muffled voices just beyond the door.

"[No, there's no time left.]"

She looked over at her crew and the allies they had gained and compassion for all of them flooded her. Her fear and desperation for them grew; she tried to make him understand again. "[Unless you help us-]"

He grabbed her shoulder and something connected them for just a moment. A thousand years of misery stabbed through her like a spear a mile long and disappeared in the same moment. She gasped in pain.

"[I'm sorry. I can't,]" he said, staring almost into her soul. "[Protect the Ocampa from the Kazon. Promise me you won't let them get the book.]"

She hesitated, thinking only of her crew and her home.

_He has no right to ask this of us!_ _Seafleet regulations state that we can't be involved in these kinds of conflicts! _

He shook her shoulder, bringing her back.

"[Kathryn, promise me!]"

She hesitated again, but this time remembering the oaths she took as a Seafleet officer to render aid to those who asked for it.

_We never asked to be involved. But we are._

_We are._

Everyone stared at her, waiting for her to make the next move.

"[Please!]" rasped the Caretaker, painfully digging his fingers into her shoulder. She made eye contact with him and managed to catch a glimpse of the man the Caretaker must have been a thousand generations ago, when he had first come to protect the Ocampa. He understood what it was to protect a society and its ideals, just as she did. Her duty was clear.

"[I will,]" she whispered, nodding at him.

He relaxed and released her shoulder. She thought for a second he was going to smile at her, but he lapsed into regret again.

"[I'm sorry to ask it of you, but I wouldn't have dared if I weren't so desperate… or if I hadn't thought you could do it.]"

This time, the explosion seemed to make the tower tremble on its foundation. The Caretaker let go of her shoulder and fell back onto the floor. The air in the room became tight and heavy, then it weighed nothing as the light left his eyes.

Ink, black as storm clouds, came pouring out off all the books and papers in the room, gathering in puddles on the floor. The plants died too, becoming dry and brittle, then crumbling to dust. Beakers and bottles boiled until only chalky residue remained. Metal and brass instruments instantly fell to rusty disrepair, including the lock on the spellbook.

Kim picked up one of the books. "All the pages are blank. Incredible."

"Captain!" shouted Paris. "The spell book wasn't destroyed!"

He was right. The book was dusted with a layer of dead plants, but otherwise intact. Tuvok immediately began working the lock free.

"Now we know why he wanted us to get rid of it," said Chakotay. "He knew it wouldn't die with him."

"[So what do we do?]" asked Neelix.

An angry shout from behind the blocked door caught their attention. Something heavy thudded against it, then – silence.

"That's it?" said Torres. "Nearly an hour of attacks and now they stop?"

"It can't be that easy," said Paris. Janeway turned to Tuvok, only to see him staring intently at the door, wide eyed. She knew that look. He could hear something.

"Lieutenant?"

"[Take cover!]" he shouted. They threw themselves behind overturned tables and chairs just as the door and bookcase exploded outwards. Rocks and splinters rained down on them, filling the air with dust and smoke. Before it had cleared, Janeway peered over the edge of the table to see no less than twelve pirates standing in what had once been the doorway.

"[Where is the sorcerer?]" shouted Jabin. The pirates looked around for a moment, then spotted the body on the floor. Jabin seemed to swell with anger as he took in the situation and the other pirates whispered to each other.

"[Kes, can you understand them?]" asked Janeway, already guessing at what they were saying. Kes listened, frowning.

"[I don't think they like what we did. They think we killed him.]"

"Oh great," said Paris. "This'll end well."

"[Listen to me,]" said Janeway, rising. "[He was already dying. We didn't kill him.]"

"[That sorcerer cursed us, made the Ocampa his favorite pets and forgot about us!]" said Jabin, breathing fast. "[We came here to take back our lives. But you've ruined everything!]"

"[It's not our fault!]" said Chakotay, climbing to his feet. "[When he died, everything died with him. Even if we hadn't come, there still would have been nothing left to take.]"

"[That book's still intact,]" said a different pirate. "[We'll take that.]"

"[I don't think so,]" said Janeway, hand tightening around her sword.

"[You're not going to stop us.]" Jabin stepped into the room. The captain drew her sword.

"[Don't move.]" Without taking her eyes off him, she muttered something to Tuvok. He nodded, standing up, followed by the rest of the crew. Jabin and the other pirates drew their own weapons, crowding the threshold. The tension humming in the room made the air almost too tight to breathe.

Then Jabin screamed a battle cry and all hell broke loose.


	13. Chapter 12

Janeway and Chakotay sprang forward, swords drawn, blocking the pirates from moving further inside. With all the force of a wave crashing into the rocks, Federation swords slammed against pirate cutlasses. The sound of metal rang out as steel crashed into steel, over and over. The captain's armor shivered from minor hits, but she never slowed down. Her entire world narrowed down to nothing more than dodge, block, strike, and counterstrike. When the pirates pressed closer, Neelix and Paris joined the fray. Instantly, the sound of battle in the room doubled to a roar. Despite her intentions, Janeway found herself pulling back. The room was too small for all the action it was seeing and the battle was getting claustrophobic. More pirates jumped into the room and the odds suddenly changed from four against four to four against six. Risking a look backwards, she saw Tuvok still working on the lock, while Torres rose unsteadily to her feet, knife at the ready. Kes knelt next to Kim, reassuring him. The pirates surged again, forcing them further into the room.

"[I can call them off, Janeway!]" Jabin called through the chaos. "[All we want is that book!]"

All this over that damned book. She risked another glance; Tuvok was no further along now than when he had started. She only had one option now.

_Sorry, Mark. This is going to take a little longer than three weeks._

Carefully, she inched her way over to where she had taken cover when the pirates forced their way into the room. With a yell, she kicked her opponent hard in the stomach, sending him staggering backwards. Not wasting her chance, she kicked her near forgotten torch in the air and grabbed it with her free hand. Thank the Heavens it was still burning.

"Tuvok, get down!" she shouted. He ducked and she flung the torch at the book.

"[NO!]" screamed Jabin, seeing his last hope engulfed in flames. He fell silent, then charged forward, yelling, "[Kill them! Kill them _now!_]"

The last pirates in the stairwell shoved their way in and surrounded Janeway and Chakotay. Without a word, they stood back to back to face their opponents. The pirates were nearly in a frenzy to kill them, but the fighting became easier now that she didn't have to watch her back. Their swords spun back and forth through the pirates, each filling the gaps the other left on both sides. He was much better than she'd expected. It was almost like they'd been fighting together their whole lives. What she wouldn't give to have him as an officer on her side.

_Well, maybe now with the book- _she forced the thoughts out of her mind. All her energy had to go into the fight – there was no time for distractions. Every time she knocked one of the pirates back, another one recovered and jumped forward.

Chakotay seemed to sense the same thing. "I don't think this is working!" he said.

"It's not!" she answered. "Tuvok, we need a solution!" She threw a glance at her weapons master and saw him folding his hands in concentration. Not what she had expected. She drew a breath to call him again, when he suddenly shouted, "Brace yourselves!" Janeway and Chakotay crouched, waiting.

With a massive rumble, the floor shivered and heaved, knocking all the pirates off their feet. The pair stood back up, with the captain shouting, "[Let's get out of here!]"

Chakotay sheathed his sword and moved to help B'Elanna, when a flying blur came out of nowhere and slammed him sideways. Before he had finished moving, part of the ceiling came crashing down on the spot where he'd stood moments before. The blur that slammed into him turned out to be Paris. The traitor quickly jumped off him and hauled Chakotay to his feet. Both of them started for their stricken friends. B'Elanna wobbled, but managed to throw her arm around him. It took both Paris and Kes to get Kim on his feet. Together, they half-ran to the portal as the pirates struggled to rise. Most of them were covered in ceiling rubble, but there was still no time to waste. The Vulcan snatched something from the ashes of the stone book before joining them. As they approached the wall, Chakotay shot Paris a look.

"What were you thinking, Paris?" he said. "Why did you save me?"

Paris gave that arrogant half smile Chakotay both remembered and hated.

"Well, I thought about letting you die, but I decided I liked the idea of you owing me your life a lot more."

Next to him, B'Elanna groaned and mumbled something threatening. He couldn't tell if it was directed at him or anyone in particular.

"[How do we get it open?]" asked Neelix as they drew up to the wall. "[It looks pretty solid to me.]" He rapped it with his knuckles to emphasize his point. Suddenly, the light increased and the gap between the stones became wider. He laid his hand on the wall and the gap grew even wider.

"[Together,]" said Janeway, catching on. "[Everyone, one hand on the wall.]" The group obeyed and the wall slid apart with a grinding noise, flooding the room with brilliant light. Chakotay heard a stone shifting behind him, but didn't bother to look. They stepped through and all at once found themselves on _Voyager's_ weather deck. The sunlight was something of a shock after the dimness of the Caretaker's dwelling, but the fresh air gave them new strength. In fact, B'Elanna pulled away from him and marched over to Janeway.

"What were you thinking?" she demanded. "How could you destroy the spell book? That was our only way home!"

"I'm aware that everyone has loved ones and obligations back in the Federation," said Janeway, "So do I. But I'm not willing to trade the lives of the Ocampa for our convenience. We'll just have to find another way." She turned and began to walk away, but B'Elanna grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"What other way home is there?" she said. Chakotay yanked her back before she resorted to violence. Instead, B'Elanna turned the force of her anger on Chakotay.

"Who is she to be making all these decisions for us?"

He took a moment to consider this, rejected all the self-righteous reasons he knew she had and he agreed with, and simply said, "She's the captain."

B'Elanna huffed and folded her arms. Janeway regarded him evenly, then handed him the paper the Caretaker had given her. "The four of you get to sickbay and have those spells reversed. Tuvok, you're with me."

Paris led the way to the lower decks. Chakotay stared at him, wondering just whose side he was on now.

Janeway watched them go, sparing a thought for her fiancée, her family and the families of her crew, left behind in the Federation. If only there had been a way to send a message or… She put it of her head. There was nothing more to be done now.

Most of the deckhands had heard Torres' outburst and were looking at her with fear and disbelief. Before she had a chance to explain, Rollins came running up to her.

"Captain! Ensign Kyoto says a new pirate appeared on the ship in a flash of light, exactly like you did!"

"What?" She grabbed his spyglass and ran to the rail to see for herself. Sure enough, there was Jabin, pointing at _Voyager_ and yelling. "He must have followed us."

"Followed you?" said Rollins. "I thought that portal only led here."

"The portal must send a person directly to their own specific ship," she explained. "Jabin wants us dead. We're going to have to find a way to lose him. Tuvok!"

He came to attention across the deck at the sound of his name.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Run out the guns and prepare to fire on my command."

"Aye, Captain." Tuvok called the gunners to their places and headed below deck. Paris and Kim, followed by the two renegades, came out after he disappeared. She waved them all over to her.

"Jabin's on the pirate ship," she began to explain, but Ensign Kyoto interrupted her.

"Shoals off the starboard bow, Captain!"

"Could we lose them in the shoals?" asked Chakotay as Neelix came over.

"It's risky. We'd have to be careful not to run aground," said Janeway.

"It's probably not worth it," said Neelix. "They'd simply follow the path you took around the shoals."

"What if they couldn't see us?" said Paris.

"What's there to hide us?" said Torres. "We're in the middle of the ocean!"

"Maybe if we had a way to create a smokescreen…"

"A Firestorm!" said Kim. "We'll just have to light the oil right on the water."

Janeway stared at the irregular motion of the water they were rapidly approaching, remembering Paris' demeanor back in the prison where she'd found him. That cocky, irresponsible rogue had disappeared almost the moment Ensign Kim had gone missing, replaced by a man desperately wanting a second chance. Done right, that second chance could make a lifetime of difference. Maybe this was one of those times. At least she knew he cared enough not to ruin it this time.

"Mr. Paris, can you get us through the shoals?" she said.

A slow disbelieving grin spread across his face. "Yes, ma'am."

"Then go take the helm." She dashed to the relay box. "Tuvok, belay my previous order and get all archers on deck, as well as the oil reserves. We're going to launch a Firestorm."

"Aye Captain," he answered through the box. "However, I must point out that we may not possess enough crewmembers for a proper execution."

"Understood." Janeway hadn't realized that. They would almost certainly need a massive smokescreen and if they were short handed-

"We'll help," said Chakotay. She smiled at him, grateful all over again for his unexpected presence.

"Good. Send your people to the aft railing. I'll see if we have enough bows."

"Sure thing. B'Elanna, go see if you can find that jar of liquid fire we had."

Her jaw dropped."You want to _give_ it to them?"

"They need our help. We have to work together now."

Torres rolled her eyes in answer and dashed below deck. Janeway turned to see Paris at the helm, looking as if he truly belonged there. _We'll see…_

"Rollins!" she called. "Start taking soundings. We don't want any last minute surprises."

"Aye, Captain," he answered, heading for the equipment locker.

"Lieutenant Carey," she called, "what was done with the damaged sailcloth from the fore mainsail?"

"It's below, out of the way," he answered. "But it's torn and useless now."

"Never mind that. Bring it up here, on the double."

He turned and dashed below to grab it, nearly colliding with the contingent of archers coming up from the ladder.

"They're gaining on us, Captain!" said Paris.

She nodded at him, then commanded, "Archers, take your positions on the aft deck!"

They moved into place as Rollins shouted, "By the mark ten, Captain!"

She headed up to the aft deck, shortly joined by Tuvok and Torres carrying huge jars, who were closely followed by Carey holding a giant lump of sailcloth. Janeway started tearing the sailcloth into long strips and tying them together. Tuvok passed around bows and arrows; the renegades only hesitated a moment before taking theirs. Paris made minute adjustments to the helm, never taking his eyes off the horizon.

"That should be long enough," said Janeway, tying one final knot. "Carey, give me a hand with this." The two worked together to shove the line of cloth into the larger of the oil jars.

"By the deep seven," called Rollins. Janeway and Carey grabbed the jar, hauling it up to the aft deck. Setting it on the deck, she yanked the cloth, now soaked in oil, back out of the jar and handed it to the archers.

"Hang on to it until I tell you otherwise," she told them. They stretched it out until it ran the entire length of the aft rail.

"The Kazon continue to gain, Captain," said Tuvok.

"Throw it!" she shouted. The archers threw it as far as they could, spreading the cloth as wide as it would go. _Perfect,_ she thought.

"Light it, quickly!" she called. Tuvok nodded, lighting a small torch. Starting at each end, he lit the oil soaked cloths tied to the arrows. The archers who got it first passed it quickly to their neighbors.

"Archers, take your marks!" They drew back their bowstrings with one smooth motion.

"Fire!"

Fifteen bolts of light flew through the air toward the black line on the water. Some made the target, but many fell wide. The fire caught instantly, sending a cloud of black smoke over them. People began coughing and choking, but otherwise stayed at their posts.

"Prepare to fire!" shouted Tuvok, taking up his own bow.

"Stagger the rounds, Lieutenant," said Janeway. "Continuous fire – make that screen as dark and wide as we possibly can."

"Aye, Captain. Ensigns, take aim. Crewmen, wait for my order." Satisfied that he had control of the situation, Janeway turned her attention to Paris, whose face was furrowed in concentration, just as Rollins called, "By the mark two."

"How are you doing, Mr. Paris?"

"There's a channel deep enough for the ship between two sandbars. It's going to be tight, but I think we can do it." She threw a glance over her shoulder. The smoke was none too healthy, but the outline of the pirate ship was fading into the blackness.

"Cease fire," called Tuvok. "We need not waste any more arrows."

"Mr. Paris, it's all up to you now," said Janeway. For once, Paris said nothing; merely kept his hands the wheel and concentrated. The crew watched as the sandbars in the water slid around the ship. Suddenly, the deck jerked sideways, sending everyone stumbling.

"Sorry," murmured Paris, still watching. "That shouldn't happen again."

Several tense moments passed in silence, until Rollins let out a shout, making everyone jump out of their skin.

"By the mark five!"

"We're out!" shouted Paris. The crew let out a short cheer of relief.

"They might still be following us," said Chakotay, effectively killing the mood.

"Tuvok?" said Janeway. Tuvok nodded, once again moving in his Far Sight form. His spirit-self drifted away from the ship and through the smoke. Only moments later, his eyes snapped open and he shouted, "Incoming!"

The crew threw themselves to the deck as several arrows whistled through the air. One landed with a thump in the main mast. No more followed. Janeway stood and wrenched it free. Something was written on the side.

"'You have made an enemy today,'" she read out loud. "The Kazon?"

"They are not pursuing," said Tuvok.

"Good. Begin repairs." She headed for her office, taking one last look at the arrow before she flung it over the rail.


	14. Chapter 13

Chakotay waited for the last of his crew to filter into the mess hall. He closed the door and sat on the table.

"Is everyone here?" he asked.

"Samantha's not," said Knowles.

"Samantha already spoke to the captain. Since she's already an officer, she's going to come off her leave a little earlier than she expected. Turns out she's an ensign."

Chakotay took a breath, calming himself. Now came the difficult part.

"Our situation has changed," he said. "Obviously."

"Are you telling us this as if it's news to us?" asked Henley. "We've lost everything."

"Not everything. We still have each other."

"Cold comfort," said Hogan. "Everything we were fighting for is on the other side of the world. We're trapped here, on a ship where we don't belong and everyone hates us."

"That's not true," said B'Elanna. "Harry's a good guy."

"If you say so," said Tabor.

"The point is this," said Chakotay. "Captain Janeway has asked us to join her crew."

Every one of them scoffed; some people even laughed.

"She's kidding, right?" said Dalby. "Join her, after she trapped us here?"

"Out of curiosity, what would we be doing?" asked Hogan.

"Shining their boots, most likely," said Henley. Her voice suddenly became sniveling and subservient. "'Can I be your footstool again, Captain? Do you need someone to scrub the deck with a toothbrush? Let me peel those potatoes – I don't mind slicing my hands up for a meal!'" The renegades chuckled at her sarcasm.

"We'd be no better than serfs or cow-herds," said Jor.

"It won't be like that," said Chakotay. "She promised me."

"A promise – that and half a gold piece will get you a glass of ale," said B'Elanna.

"What did she promise you?" asked Knowles.

"She said if we agreed, I'd be the new first officer."

This got their attention.

"Really?" asked Dalby.

"Not only that, but several positions have opened up. Some of you will become ranking officers. If not, Janeway's willing to take you as far as the nearest port and turn you loose there."

"Wait, so this is a one shot?" said Dalby. "Join her or get off?"

"Did you expect her to give us our own ship? I told you things were going to change. If we want to go home, we play by her rules."

"No way," said Tabor. "What do we owe her?"

"Our lives," said Hogan. "We'd be dead now if she hadn't taken us aboard."

"I'm not buying it," said Henley. "Why is she offering us officer positions? Why go to all that trouble? To set us up? Watch us fail? Why does she want us?"

"Because they need us," said Ayala.

"Exactly," said Chakotay. "They lost almost a third of their crew in the storm and we lost our ship. We need them as much as they need us."

He paused to let thought sink in. Silence filled the mess hall for a moment.

"It won't be easy," he finally said. "Seafleet rules are a lot more strict than ours. But I'll do everything I can to make sure you're treated fairly. A first officer is responsible for the crew, after all. So, who's with me?"

"I'm in," said Knowles after a moment. "Could be fun, you know?"

"Claire!" said Tabor. "You're just going to turn your back on us? What about our cause? Doesn't it mean anything to you?"

"Sure it does, but what can we do out here to fight the Cardassians? This crew needs our help now."

"Seafleet hates us, if you forgot," said Dalby. "_Voyager_ was sent specifically to catch us. And now you want to join them?"

"There's no reason to resent them now," said Knowles, staring him down. "There aren't any Federation prisons for them to throw us in. The only reason for us to keep hating them is out of spite. We're better than that."

Around the room, expressions softened. Chakotay smiled at her.

"There's one more condition," he said. "Paris is joining too."

Immediately, they all began protesting.

"-You can't be serious!"

"That traitor? Serving aboard?"  
"-I'm not working with him."

"I know; I don't like him either. But he saved my life and I can't ignore that. And don't worry – I'll keep him in line. But none of you touch him, got it?"

There were reluctant murmurs of assent, then Jor spoke up.

"I'm in too. If I'm doomed to live out my life on this ship, I may as well make it easy on myself."

"Me too," said Hogan.

"Count me in," said Ayala.

"And me," said Chell. "No doubt they'll find my fighting skills invaluable. I didn't always have those skills, you know. I was blessed by a warrior monk – well, not so much blessed as Charmed with them, but I practice every week and I'm always inventing new strategies and-"

"Shut up, Chell," said Jor. "You've told us this story a hundred times already."

"I'd better come too," said B'Elanna. "To keep an eye on Paris. You never were good at watching your own back."

"Great," said Chakotay, pleased at their compliance. "Anyone else?"

Tabor, Gerron, Jarvin and Henley all agreed, if somewhat reluctantly.

"Gibson? What about you?"

Gibson, who had been staring out a window for the entire meeting, didn't respond.

"Gibson!" called Knowles. He started and gave her a halfhearted glare. "Are you staying here or are you leaving?"

"Stay," he whispered.

Chakotay turned to Dalby. "Well?"

"I guess someone has to remind you all of what we're still fighting for." Dalby glanced at Gerron. "And keep you out of trouble. Fine, I'm in."

"Great," said Chakotay, meaning it. "I'll go tell the captain." He stood to leave, when B'Elanna called after him.

"Chakotay, who's she picking to be officers?"

"Actually, I'll be picking the officers from our crew. You've got nothing to worry about."

He left, still smiling and the renegades started talking among themselves.

Paris knocked on the door to the captain's office. He waited for her to reply, pondering on the incredible events of the past few days. It had been good, very good, to be a part of a Seafleet vessel again. When the captain gave him the helm, he had forgotten for a few moments that he had no real place here. When the moment left, it took his place on the vessel with it. Now he felt adrift in his own life again, but with no way to carve out his own place on this ship. Thrown out of Seafleet, so he couldn't be an officer; betrayed the renegades to Seafleet and lost their grudging trust – what exactly did the captain have in mind for him?

"Come in," she called. He stepped in, saying, "You wanted to see me, Captain?"

"Mr. Paris, you have a problem," she said, not looking up from her papers.

That had to be the understatement of the century.

"I've invited the renegades to join my crew," she went on. "It seemed only fair."

Now that _was_ a problem. "Will you provide a bodyguard for me, Captain?"

He heard the sting of sarcasm in his voice, but couldn't bring himself to care.

"It seems you already have one. Chakotay said something about him owing you his life."

Paris managed not to laugh out loud, but it was a close thing.

"Is that so? I think I'm going to enjoy this."

Janeway finally looked up at him. "Not so fast. He's also going to be my first officer."

He fell his smug spirits deflate. But Janeway wasn't finished.

"Every crewmember will report directly to him – including the lieutenant assigned to the helm."

It took a moment for him to register that. The disbelief must have gotten in the way. "Me?"

"I've entered into the ship's log on this date that I'm granting a field commission of Lieutenant to Thomas Eugene Paris." She stood and smiled at him. It was the first real smile he'd seen on her face since their first meeting in the prison. It completely transformed her – now she looked like someone he could genuinely trust and who genuinely trusted him. The effect was both startling and comforting. Of course, the fact that she'd given him the second chance he'd given up on since the day he had been arrested didn't hurt either.

"Congratulations, Mr. Paris," she said, shaking his hand.

He tried to thank her, but the words wouldn't leave his mouth. They seemed too small. Instead, all he said was, "For the first time in my life, I'm speechless."

"I only wish your father were here to know it." Her face fell every so slightly.

For some reason, he felt the need to reassure her.

"He'll know. I'll tell him myself when we get back." He met her eyes, trying and failing again to thank her, but somehow, she understood what he meant. He turned and left, fully planning to jump for joy the second he was alone. Neelix and Kes came through the door the moment he opened it and he dodged around them.

Janeway watched him go, then turned her attention to the pair now standing in her office.

"We've supplied and prepped your ship," she said. "It's ready to go."

Kes smiled blankly and Neelix whispered in her ear. Janeway blinked, then remembered that Kes hadn't yet learned Common. Before she could say anything, however, Neelix was speaking.

"[Well, actually, that's what we wanted to talk to you about, Captain.]" He paused, exchanged a grin with Kes and continued. "[We want to come with you.]"

She blinked. And here she thought he couldn't do anything else to surprise her.

"[I'm sorry, this isn't a passenger ship.]"

"[Oh, we wouldn't be passengers; we'd be valuable colleagues,]" he assured her. "[You need a guide? I'm your guide. You need supplies? I know traders from here to Port Nekrit. You need a cook? You haven't lived until you've tasted my _angla-basque._ It will be my job to anticipate your needs before you know you have them. And I anticipate your first need... will be me!]"

Neelix had quite a sales pitch. Janeway considered it for a moment. She knew next to nothing about this part of the world. Neelix's insight might prove invaluable. "[And Kes?]" the captain asked.

"[Where I go, Kes goes,]" said Neelix, as if it was obvious. He wrapped his arm around her, but she pulled away to plead her own case.

"[I'm not just coming to be with Neelix – I want to see the world. I had no idea there was a land outside the city. And now I find out that there's a whole world out here! You've shown me an incredible life of possibilities and I want to explore it!]"

Janeway smiled at her honesty. How could she deny someone who completely understood the whole philosophy of Seafleet?

"[Very well. I'll see to it that you're assigned quarters. But I want it understood that you'll be working just as hard as any other member of this crew.]"

Neelix drew himself up to his full height. "[You can count on us, Captain!]"

She grinned at them, and sent them on their way.

Janeway didn't want to leave until most of the major repairs had been completed. She was glad she had decided to wait. It gave the two crews a chance to acclimate to each other and her a chance to reorganize things like crew assignments and sleeping arrangements. The renegades had, sad to say, inherited most of their new belongings from the deceased crewmembers. She tried not to dwell on it for too long, reminding herself that they were being put to good use. Of course, there were not enough uniforms, leaving the renegades with only the clothes on their backs. That would not do. They deserved better than to wear worn out tunics and patched boots while the Seafleeters ran around in tailored jackets with shining buttons. Uniforms would be at the top of the list of things to do the next time they were in port and a long list it was.

In the end, she was glad she had decided to formally swear them in as crewmembers. The simple ceremony would assure all of them that this was one crew, on one ship. She passed the last baldric to the last of the renegades, who took his place back in line. They held their baldrics in both hands, waiting for her.

"Lieutenant Commander Chakotay, Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Lieutenant Elías Ayala, Ensign Clarice Knowles, Ensign Robert Hogan, Crewman Mara Jor, Crewman Gibson, Crewman Tabor Jaka, Crewman Jarvin, Crewman Gerron Ral, Crewman Kenneth Dalby, Crewman Maria Henley, Crewman Chell – do you solemnly swear as officers and crewmen to obey and uphold the rules of both this ship and the Federation for which it stands?"

"I swear," they answered as one.

"Do you swear loyalty and obedience to this crew and its captain?"

"I swear."

"Do you swear to protect the interests and crew of this ship, no matter the cost?"

"I swear."

"And now I ask the entire crew to answer me: do you swear to never stop believing for a moment that we will find our way back home?"

"I swear," the renegades and the Seafleet crew spoke together.

"Then, as captain of the Federation Seafleet ship _Voyager_, I hereby grant you your respective field commissions, effective immediately. Welcome aboard."

Ragged applause broke out across the deck as the renegades put on their baldrics. Some were looking as though it was a precious gift. A second chance usually was. She looked out at her crew on the deck: her original handpicked crewmen, the newcomer renegades, Neelix and Kes the unlikely allies, the misplaced ensign and her daughter and the former convict. Never had the phrase 'motley crew' fit more perfectly. If nothing else, they were in for the ride of their lives.

She turned to face the bow and spoke.

"We're alone, in an uncharted part of the world. We've already made some friends here – " she nodded at their unlikely allies – "and some enemies."

A broken line flapped loose, reminding her of the repairs yet to be made.

"We have no idea of the dangers we're going to face. But one thing is clear: both crews are going to have to work together to survive. That's why Commander Chakotay and I have agreed that this should be one crew – a Seafleet crew."

One or two of the renegades fidgeted with their baldrics. She ignored them. They would deal with the behavioral problems as they arose, later.

"And as the only vessel 'assigned' to the Far Sea, we'll continue to follow our directive to seek out new lands and explore the world."

Without warning, a whisper of doubt flickered through her mind. What hope did she actually have to try and join these crews together? Was she out of her mind for trying to force them together? Could she keep them from killing each other?

She shook it off. The only way those doubts would come true was if she let them.

"But our primary goal is clear. We may have to spend years at sea, trying to find our way home." She shook her head at the downcast looks. "I'm not willing to settle for that. There are others like the Caretaker out there. And we'll be looking for maps or charts or shortcuts to help us. Somewhere, along this journey," she promised them with everything she had, "We'll find a way back."

She looked out over the water, to the lands they were bound to discover, to the people they were soon to meet, to the home they would finally see again.

Drawing on all her strength, she spoke with what she hoped was enough conviction for all of them.

"Mr. Paris, Mr. Kim, set a course… for home."

They could do it. If hope and heart and bravery could lead them, they could do it. All they needed was time.


End file.
